Three Shades of Fifty
by KezzaG
Summary: Our story starts when Ana fails to tell Christian she's a virgin. Her feelings for Kate will take a backseat to start, but soon she can't deny them any longer as Christian explores more about her sexual education than he bargained for. Warning: LOTS of lemons! And, there WILL be sex scenes with more than two people, so let's not be stupid. If it offends, don't read. Duh.
1. Ch 1 - The First Time

Three Shades of Fifty Ch 1 - The First Time

I have met someone. His name is Christian Grey, he's gorgeous, he's a billionaire. And he wants me.

Okay, _breathe, Ana. BREATHE._

Any girl would be over the moon about this, but somehow I have reservations. I'm definitely attracted to him, but I find myself hesitating. I've never slept with anyone and I'm nervous. That must be it. Yet, part of me isn't sure that's the whole reason.

I'm standing there, running my fingers along the red satin sheets on the four-poster bed, letting my eyes wander over the whips, chains, and canes, and my mind starts making all sorts of unapproved side trips. I think about Christian's lips on mine in the elevator, about his hand on the inside of my thigh, about the lacy underwear I have on, and about Kate. I imagine her ridiculous grin when I tell her that I slept with Christian Grey. "Oh, Ana, that's so hot!" she would growl.

I turn around to face him. Maybe it's that last glass of wine giving me confidence. "Okay."

"Okay?" he asks. "Okay, what?"

I take a deep breath and steel myself. "Okay, I'll sign whatever you want."

A huge shit-eating grin spreads over his face. He walks slowly over to me until we're inches apart. My body seems attuned to his and I feel that spark once more.

"Really?" The grin is gone and all that's left is the sexiest stare I've ever seen on a man's face. Kate would know what to do in this situation. I just feel like I'm melting into a puddle on the floor.

I say meekly, so quiet even I can hardly hear myself, "Yes, sir."

I hear him growl — growl! — and he immediately takes my hand and leads me back to his study, where I can sign all the appropriate papers. I tell him I'm not really sure what fisting is but I'm pretty confident I wouldn't like it.

"We can work out the particulars of the hard and soft limits in the morning," he says. He looks incredibly edible with a lusty, dark expression. I bite my lip and he stands.

"You're biting your lip," he says.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize. It's just that I want to bite it too, hard," he murmurs and he sweeps every last item, including all the as-yet unsigned documents from his desk. He loosens his tie and walks around the desk slowly. His entire demeanor has changed. He's domineering almost and demanding. I feel a wetness between my legs and a quickening in my chest.

"Stand up." I do as I'm told immediately. As he passes behind me, he kicks the chair I was sitting on from underneath me, letting him slide right up against my backside. His hand rests on my right butt cheek softly and I moan softly. Before I realize what has happened, he's smacked me soundly on the ass. I let out a small shriek, but his hand is back on my butt, caressing it gently.

"Shh, Miss Steele. You must learn to mind your tongue," he says. He gives me another sharp smack on the ass but I keep completely silent. He presses his hardness against my left cheek as he caresses my right again with his hand. "Good girl."

His hand runs down my leg to the hem of Kate's dress and his fingers run along my bare thigh there, pulling the dress ever so slightly.

"Now, before we get ahead of ourselves, Miss Steele, are you on any form of birth control right now?" he asks. _Oh god, should I be?_

"No, sir." I squeak.

"Aha, I didn't think so." I feel him shift as he pulls a condom from his left pocket and tosses it onto the desk in front of me. "Better safe than sorry, Miss Steele." His left hand joins his right, playing with the slowly rising hem of my dress, Kate's dress. I idly wonder if she has ever had sex wearing this dress.

"Now bend over and grab the edge of the desk." I do as I'm told, bent just slightly at the waist. "Take a small step towards me, Miss Steele." Again, I follow orders, and I feel my ass press into Christian's stiffness, sending a current straight to my groin. I can't help my sharp intake of breath at the sensation.

"You do have a breath-taking posterior, Miss Steele," he says as both his hands rub over my entire ass until his fingers hook around my hips and he pulls me into him hard._Very hard_. I smirk at my play on words. I'm now completely bent, at a right angle and can feel myself becoming wetter by the moment.

"Spread your legs for me."

I hesitate slightly, trying to figure out how to properly shift my weight so as not to fall over. Before I can react, his right hand leaves my backside and quickly returns, spanking me much harder than before, then again. I almost cry out, but manage to stop myself before more than a small "meep!" escapes my lips.

"Spread. Your. Legs," he says deliberately.

This time, I do as he commands, and quickly. My ass is throbbing now and I feel very exposed. Kate's dress is still covering me, but I have a feeling that won't last. My entire undercarriage, if you will, is facing him, and my head is dropped. All I can see are our four feet and the floor. He walks to my left side, continuing around the desk again.

"Wider." I shimmy, best I can, until my knees are about shoulder-width apart, straining against the skirt of the dress. I know my feet will start to hurt soon, the heels are too high for this to be comfortable for long.

"Good," I hear him say. I can tell he's on the other side of the desk, circling around.

"Now, Miss Steele," he begins. "I hope you're not particularly attached to your underthings."

I squirm slightly. "Well, they were a gift, sir."

He stops his slow progression around his desk. "From a man?"

"Yes, a man I like very much," I murmur, trying my best to sound sexy.

He snorts quietly. _Oh shit_, is he pissed?

He strides quickly over to me and lifts the skirt of my dress unceremoniously over my ass, revealing the lacy blue panties. He stills. I hold my breath.

Moments pass. I'm starting to get dizzy from holding my breath. He lets out a sigh and I immediately relax.

Sliding a finger under the string of elastic at my hip, he says, "Oh, Miss Steele, we're going to have to do something about that defiant streak." He punctuates this by snapping the elastic back to my skin, setting it ablaze.

"As much as I am touched that you like these," he says and he rips them with his bare hands, letting them drift into my line of vision on the floor between my ankles.

He continues his slow march around his desk again. "I'm going to spank you, Miss Steele, and I want you to stay completely still."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm was going to spank you seven times," he says, across from me. "But since you went and made me jealous, I'm doubling it." He's behind me again, his hands pulling my naked hips into his groin. I moan at the contact. "Hush," he says gently. "But remember," he slides a finger over my nub, nearly making my knees buckle. "I want you to count."

"Yes, sir."

I feel a shiver as he moves back and to the left, no longer keeping my naked backside warm.

It seems like eons pass and then suddenly I feel a crack across both cheeks. _Holy shit! That fucking hurts!_ I scream and it somehow comes out as a vaguely intelligible, "One!" His hand rubs the spot he just struck sensually. I arch my back slightly, making my legs a little straighter, pressing my butt into his hand. And then it's gone.

_Smack! Smack!_

Once on each cheek, right in the middle. "Two, three!" I wail.

His hands caress the throbbing spots gently once more.

This time when he removes his hands, I hear metal clinking together lightly before I feel another hard slap, this time on the sensitive spot where my left thigh meets my ass.

"Four!"

He rubs it once more, then repeats the process on the right side.

"Five!"

And then I hear him walking around the desk once more. I realize I'm panting. My ass feels swollen, tender, and I'm so aroused despite myself. I'm scared as all hell, but what girl isn't the first time?

When he reaches his chair, directly opposite me, I hear him pull it out and sit down. I let my curiosity get the better of me and take a peek to see what he's doing. He's untying his shoes. I watch, mesmerized, as he removes first one then the other, then removes each sock and rolls it up, sticking it inside its shoe. He's completely engrossed in what he's doing and it's not until he's finished his task that he looks up at me. I immediately drop my head back down, knowing I've somehow misbehaved.

"Tut, tut, Miss Steele. I didn't say you could move," he says as he circles around once more. When he gets behind me, I see his naked feet. I don't know what it is about his bare feet, but I find them incredibly sexy, especially when standing between Kate's black patent leather high heels.

He wraps his hand around my pony tail and pulls back roughly. He presses his crotch into my ass and leans over my body so his mouth is right next to my ear, holding my thigh still with his free hand. "Miss Steele, I think you just earned yourself one more. And then I'm going to fuck you very hard." His hand that was on my thigh slides around until it begins to play with my nub once more. I moan but can't move at all, completely subdued by this man. "I thought I told you to hold your tongue, Miss Steele," he breathes, and slips two fingers inside of me. It's a good thing his arm is underneath me to keep me from falling when I lose all the strength in my legs for a moment.

"Oh, Miss Steele, you're so ready for me," he says, pumping his fingers in and out of me, agonizingly slow. "I do think you're enjoying your punishment."

"Yyyyes, sir," I stammer.

He releases my hair and stands, letting my head loll forward again. Still working his magic with his fingers, he smacks me hard with his other hand.

"S-s-six!" I scream out.

"Oh, Miss Steele, I'm not sure how much more of this you can take."

He smacks me hard on the other cheek.

"Seven!"

"I'm not sure how much more I can take, either, Miss Steele."

He switches hands, now sliding his fingers in and out of me from behind. I can hear him licking the fingers of his unencumbered hand. "Mmm, Miss Steele, you taste divine."

I moan and buck my hips. _How the hell is he making me feel so depraved and so sexy at the same time?_

He slips a third finger into me and I feel strained, full, almost painfully so. I gasp and try to catch my breath, but I feel a quiver racing through my core.

"I don't want you to come yet, Miss Steele."

_And how the hell am I supposed to stop from doing that?_

"No, s-s-sir."

"Good girl," he says. _Smack! Smack!_ One on each thigh.

"Eight, nine!"

_Smack, smack, smack!_ He riddles my backside with spanks, distracting me, heightening the sensations.

"Ten, eleven, t-twelve!"

I hear the metal again and realize he's unbuckling his belt. I hear his zipper and watch as he steps out of his crumpled trousers.

"We're almost there, Miss Steele, the moment we've all been waiting for," he says seductively, like it's an order. An order to do what, I don't know, but an order nonetheless.

_Smack! Smack! _These slaps land almost on my hips, painfully. He takes his fingers away and reaches around me to the desk before I hear the rip of foil.

"Thirteen, Fourteen," I pant.

There's an interminable pause before the last slap, right between my cheeks, hitting my ripened sex, making every fiber of my being perk up and take notice.

"Fifteen!" I scream as he enters me from behind, grabbing my hips and thrusting violently into me, ripping my virginity to shreds. "Ah!"

He stops momentarily and I can feel his fingers trembling slightly.

"Ana?" He has lost all the confidence he had in his voice. He sounds like a small, lost boy, scared and confused.

"Don't stop," I whine, urging him to push through the pain. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and I want to go there with him so much. "Please," I whisper. "Please don't stop."

That's all the encouragement he needs, and he resumes his ministrations, though much slower and more tenderly now. He reaches his hand around and teases my core. "Ana, come for me, baby," he groans, and, like a good sub, I obey.


	2. Ch 2 - If At First You Don't Succeed

Three Shades of Fifty Ch 2 - If At First You Don't Succeed

My vision returns to normal very slowly. Christian's arm is supporting me so I don't collapse completely to the floor. We're both panting raggedly and I feel like every inch of my skin is covered in sweat, not all of it mine.

I wince as he pulls out of me, pulling me upright. My ass is sore, my crotch is sore, my thighs are sore. Hell, even my feet are sore. He discards the condom into the waste basket and sits me down on the front of his desk, sopping with fluids of all varieties, probably ruining the beautiful leather top of his desk. I look down at the desk and notice the fingernail marks I left in the leather already.

I can't help myself, I start to giggle. At first, I try to cover my mouth and stifle it, hide it, but they just grow and grow until I'm full-on guffawing. He is quite a site to behold. He's just as sweaty as I am, and though he's still wearing his dress shirt, he's completely naked from the waist down. He's pacing back and forth, running both hands through his hair, muttering to himself. I suppose I don't look much better, with Kate's dress hiked up to my waist, her heels dangling barely from my feet, my entire groin exposed and dripping. Who knew sex would be so messy?

He turns on me like a bolt. "What the fuck, Anastasia?" _Oh shit, he's really pissed_.

I swallow my laughter with a hiccup. "Sorry."

"Sorry?!"

"I wasn't laughing at _that_," I start.

"Not the fucking laughing." His voice has dropped to a hush. Now it's really scary. "Why the _fuck_ didn't you tell me you were a virgin?"

I gulp. I had no idea he'd be able to tell.

He stares at me. I stare back. Seasons change, it seems like we're silent for so long.

"Well?"

I finally murmur, "It didn't really come up."

He goes back to his pacing, running his fingers through his hair. I want to run my fingers through his hair. I feel that warmth down in what I now know to be the deepest part of my vagina.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think it would matter."

He stops and looks at me again. "Well, it does fucking matter, Anastasia!" He's yelling again.

"I didn't think you would notice."

He stops. His expression changes to what I think is sadness. No, more than that. Devastation.

"That's not why it matters." His voice is soft, consoling. "It matters because that's not how..." He sighs as he walks over to me slowly, taking my face between both of his hands. He kisses me tenderly on the lips, letting his tongue bump mine before pulling back. He tastes like sweet wine. "That's not how your first time should have gone." He kisses me again, sweetly at first, but then growing in fervor as he lifts my knees up with his hands and lets them slide up the underside of each thigh. I lose my shoes to the floor with a thump thump.

I wrap my arms around his neck and I swear he flinches. He lets go of my legs and slowly unclasps my arms from around him. He pulls back to look me in the eyes. Keeping his gaze locked on mine, he leans in and bites my bottom lip. Hard. I moan into his mouth, but never let my eyes close. It seems almost like he's challenging me with his stare.

I rest my hands on my thighs and wrap my legs around his waist, hooking my ankles together, pulling him closer. I feel his dick against me and know that he's ready to go again. I groan again and he releases my lip from between his teeth.

His hands find the zipper in the back of my dress and slowly open it. His fingers graze my spine along the way and my back arches, pushing my chest into his. I feel his dick twitch between my legs.

"Lift up your arms, Anastasia," he says gently. He peels my dress off above my head and tosses it to the floor. Our eyes meet again and my breath hitches.

I look down momentarily at his shirt, the only thing between us. Without thinking, I raise my hands to unbutton it, but when I look back into his eyes, I remember myself and drop them back to my thighs. I'm not supposed to touch him.

"I'll do it," he says. Unhurried, he unbuttons his shirt, pausing to remove his cufflinks before sloughing the shirt to the floor.

He leans his torso into mine, pushing me backwards, and places his cufflinks on the desk behind me.

"Let me make love to you, Anastasia."

"I thought you didn't make love, you fucked hard."

He smiles mischievously at me. "I think I can make an exception this one time." His fingers skim over my hip bones and up the sides of my stomach. It's achingly slow and sends an electric current straight to my core. "Please, let me do this the right way."

I'm putty in his hands. His eyes are pleading. He's asking permission? His lips hover just beyond mine. I can feel his hot breath on my face. _Oh good god, I want him so badly._

"Please," he whispers.

"Yes."

His lips are on me at once. He takes my hands slowly and wraps them around his neck, then he scoops his hands under me and lifts me off the desk, holding me against him. He's walking, carrying me wrapped around him like a marsupial and every step and bump rubs against me, strengthening my arousal.

"Where are we going?" I breathe into his ear.

"I won't make love to you on a desk."

As we pass through the living room, with its floor-to-ceiling windows, I feel incredibly exposed, and I'm surprised to realize that I enjoy that. The idea that someone might see us is intoxicating. I turn my head towards the Seattle skyline and smile lazily. That's right, World, the incredibly sexy man between my thighs wants to make love to _me_.

He brings me to an enormous room with a beautiful king-sized bed in the center of it. This must be his bedroom. He sets me down on the sheets, kissing me lightly on my forehead, my cheeks, my eyelids, my nose, my lips. Oh, my lips. I lay back slowly and he follows, climbing into the bed on top of me. He lifts me slightly and shifts us up further on the bed until my head is resting on soft pillows.

His hands are exploring my body, his touch soft and sure. He runs the back of his index finger up my stomach, along my ribs, and pauses at my breast. He's never touched them before. He pulls his lips from mine and looks down at my body.

"You're beautiful," he says quietly.

I shiver under his scrutiny. I cast my eyes down and drop my chin. "Thank you, sir."

He looks back up at me, almost panicked. He lifts my chin up so I'll look in his eyes. "Not right now. Don't call me sir right now." He kisses me again and then leaves a trail of kisses, nibbles, and bites on his way to my breasts. Once there, he takes a moment to admire them before caressing first one, then the other with his hands. A small cry of pleasure escapes me as my eyes roll back in my head and I arch into his touch.

"So responsive," he breathes before burying his face in my left breast. He licks and squeezes and I feel myself building, I hear myself panting. He moves his face to my right breast, biting the soft underside and my hands run through his hair before I can stop myself. To my surprise, he doesn't flinch or pull away, but groans into my skin. He pinches my nipple which causes my hips to buck. He looks up at me, that same mischievous grin on his face before biting my right nipple, making me buck once more.

"Please," I whine. I just want him inside of me once more. I want to feel his pulse inside of me and know I can't be more full of him.

He's kissing me again before I can beg anymore. I hear the drawer of the nightstand open and the ripping of foil again before he pulls away momentarily. My breath is labored and I reach for him, but his lips are on mine again before my hands can find him.

I feel his fingers run along my opening and I gasp into his mouth. He smiles and brings his finger to his mouth. "You are so sweet, Anastasia," he says appreciatively. "Here," he says as he dips his finger into me again, making me moan. "You try." Before I know what's happening, he's put his wet finger into my wide open mouth. I close my mouth around it in surprise and find the taste to be musky and sweet. I suck on his finger, looking deep in his eyes. I feel like a goddess.

The tip of his penis is pressing against my core and I suck harder. Slowly, he pulls his finger from my mouth and replaces it with his lips. As his tongue parts my lips, he enters me, slowly. There's a bit of pain, a stretching, a soreness, but it's so fleeting and is immediately overshadowed by a warmth, a fullness, a need. He presses into me deeper and deeper until I'm sure he's touching the very end of me. I throw my head back and scream. Ever so slowly, he pulls back until he's just barely inside of me still. I quiver in that moment and grab his arms, squeezing tightly.

He sets a slow, leisurely pace, making sure he sinks himself into me entirely before pulling back to start the process again. I feel so overwhelmed with sensation, I lose all ability to think. There's no him, there's no me, there's no bed, there's no time. There's only this sensation of sheer anticipation.

"Oh, Anastasia, you feel so good."

He presses his thumb against my clit and circles slowly, picking up the speed of his thrusts barely. I feel myself hurtling towards something, but I can't tell if the goal is more important or the journey there. Part of me wants to hold back and make this last forever, but I know it's impossible.

"Don't stop," I groan and he speeds up further, pressing my nub with more determination than before. "Don't ever stop." My hands find his ass and pull him into me, squeezing as hard as I can, my body matching his rhythm stroke for stroke.

"Anastasia," he utters.

And at his exclamation of my name, I feel every muscle in my body contract in a spectacular fireworks display of pleasure.

"Christian!"

His orgasm follows close behind mine, speeding then stilling his frenetic movements.

"Ana," he sighs before he collapses onto his side, pulling me with him, still inside of me as the aftershocks rock my body.

Our breathing syncs after a few moments. When he pulls out of me and tosses the condom towards the trash can, I open my eyes to find him staring at me.

"How'd I do?" I ask.

He smiles and kisses me lazily, his eyes half-closed. "You were perfect." Then he pulls me against his chest and I inhale his scent before falling asleep.


	3. Ch 3 - A Short Lesson in Limits

**Ch 3 - A Short Lesson in Limits**

* * *

In the morning, I open my eyes I have trouble placing myself. Finally I realize I'm still in Christian Grey's bed, though I am unfortunately alone. I stretch my arms and legs unthinking and regret it instantly. Everything hurts. My arms, my legs, the backs of my thighs, my breasts, my shoulders, my palms, my back, my ass... and good god do my lady parts hurt!

I groan loudly and still immediately. My nipples, sex, and ass throb now that I'm aware of them, even though I'm trying to distract myself by focusing on food. I can smell bacon and syrup and pancakes and who knows what else cooking. It's intoxicating, but the prospect of standing is more than a little intimidating. Finally the need to pee crushes my fear of pain and I slide, buck-ass naked out of bed.

Once I've relieved myself, I sidle out to the bedroom once more. For some reason, I feel glorious in my bare skin. I'm still incredibly sore, but moving my muscles seems to dull the ache. I stand in front of the full-length mirror and look at myself, really look at myself, for the first time possibly ever. At least the first time naked, that's for sure.

My skin has a certain glow about it and my breasts have a pinkish hue, perky and bright. I turn to check on my butt, which is more of a hot pink that extends halfway to my knees. A handprint is clearly visible on the apple of each cheek. Still, my skin looks healthy, tight, and fresh. I cautiously touch the raw skin with my fingers and find it soft, smooth, and magnificently sensitive. I let the flat of my hand rub against my ass, cupping it, lifting it. I've never been able to think of myself as an object of sexual desire before, but I want to be able to see myself through the eyes of Christian Grey.

I'm getting turned on watching myself, I can feel the wetness between my legs. On a whim, I pull my hand back and smack myself, right on the bright pink handprint. I yelp from the delicious sting of it and that's when I hear him growl.

I turn quickly to see Christian Grey standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but gray flannel pajama pants that hang from his hips. I feel a blush cover all those parts of me that aren't already pink as he smiles his devilish little smile at me.

"Miss Steele, I was quite enjoying that."

He saunters over, stopping when he's close enough for me to feel the heat radiating from his body. He doesn't touch me, just stands over me, watching me.

"Were you enjoying that, Miss Steele?"

Speechless, all I can do is stare back, shaking like a leaf under his gaze. Without taking his eyes off mine, he reaches down and runs two fingers over my sex, sliding easily along my opening. I gasp slightly and he surprises me by putting them in my mouth.

"You were, Miss Steele. Tell me, how do you taste?"

I suck on his fingers, savoring in the sweet, earthy flavor again. I'm surprised when I realize I like the taste. "Good, sir."

"I want you to come out to the kitchen for breakfast. You need to eat." I smile at him suggestively. "Food. You need to eat food, Miss Steele. There's plenty of time for that later."

I frown playfully and start to gather my dress. He grabs my wrist and pulls it behind my back.

"I didn't say you could get dressed."

Blushing again, I drop the dress back to the floor. "Yes, Mr. Grey."

A smile spreads across his face. He takes my other wrist and pulls it behind my back as well. This makes my back arch, pushing my chest out and my nipples lightly graze his torso. He holds both wrists in one hand then grabs my ass with his other, making me gasp and press my breasts harder against his body.

"You were very bad yesterday, Miss Steele," he smacks me soundly on the rump. It's much gentler than yesterday but hurts just as much because the area is so inflamed already. I hold my tongue, though.

"You need to be honest with me. I need to be able to trust you." He slaps me on the other cheek.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Grey."

"You will tell me if you want me to stop, Miss Steele."

_Smack!_ This time is harder, painful. I bite my lip.

"Miss Steele?"

_Smack, smack!_ Two slaps in quick succession land on my reddened thighs. This time a small cry escapes my lips.

"Yes, sir."

_Smack!_ Once very hard on my ass. I see stars for a moment.

"You will safeword when it is too much for you, Miss Steele."

_Smack!_ My vision blurs slightly.

"Yes, sir."

I know I'm being tested. But as much as it hurts and as much as I know I shouldn't, I am enjoying this. With every smack to my back side, my front is pressing into him. I can feel his erection against me, his abs against my breasts, his breath against my hair.

He hits me five more times before I finally gasp, "Yellow!"

His fingers slip into me and I stagger on my feet. He releases my arms and turns away, his fingers still inside me.

"Come along," he says casually. He takes a step towards the door and pulls me gently to follow him. I can barely move, but somehow manage to put one foot forward in a halting step.

"Christian!" I yell out.

"Miss Steele," he says patronizingly, though he does stop and turn to me. He starts pumping his fingers in and out as he speaks. "You were a very bad girl yesterday, and you will need to be taught to be honest with me, to communicate." He rubs my clit with his thumb, nearly making my knees buckle. "You must be punished until you can learn to tell me everything." He hooks his fingers once more and pulls gently. "Now come along," he whispers and begins to walk backwards, watching me.

Timidly and carefully I follow him. After a few very slow steps, I lose my footing and fling forward towards him, my hands finding purchase on his upper arms. When I'm steady, I remember myself and quickly remove my hands from his skin.

"It's alright. You can hold my arms, Miss Steele. It seems you need the support," he says.

I place my hands back on his biceps and smile. They are hard under my fingers. He gives me another little tug and we lurch forward once again.

We make it to the living room, and I feel completely exposed. I'm standing totally nude in front of the huge picture windows with Christian Grey's fingers inside of me. I imagine all of Seattle can see us. I think of José and Ray and Ethan staring, judging me. I imagine Kate's eyes on my skin, then her going on a tirade about women's lib and sexual freedoms and gender equality and god knows what else.

"Yellow." This time I say it quietly, calmly, though I feel anything but.

Immediately, the evil little tug of his fingers is gone and I feel steady again. He looks down at me with concern and, somehow, satisfaction.

"I'm glad. My hope is you'll never have to say 'red'." He smiles gently. "Tell me you're alright."

I nod. "Just an errant thought," I say. Somehow the idea of Kate seeing me with this man makes me... I'm not sure. Uncomfortable? That's not quite right, but it's the closest I can come up with at the moment.

On my tip toes I kiss Christian, letting my naked body lean against the length of his. He holds my face in his hands, but doesn't try to touch me beyond that. Finally, I pull back. "Come on, I'm starved!" I say and practically skip to the kitchen.


	4. Ch 4 - Initial Negotiations

**Chapter 4 - Initial Negotiations**

* * *

I eat my pancakes self consciously in the nude on a white leather barstool. I try to avoid his gaze, but Christian openly gawks at me while he methodically eats his egg white omelet. He finishes long before I do, smiling like an idiot as he watches me. I stare at my food then out of desperation grab the newspaper off the counter.

"Oh, the Mariners won last night," I remark in as casual a tone as I can muster.

I open the paper up and try to block myself from his view as I take another sip of tea. It's my favorite, Twinings. I'm a bit touched he remembered.

I gasp and almost choke on the tea. He has slid his hand under the newspaper and around my thigh. I can't see his face, only his hand. It's so surprising, I spread my legs, giving him purchase. He massages my nub with gusto. I can feel myself drawing near the edge, building to a quick release. Should I drop the paper so I can see him? There's definitely something arousing as all get out about the anonymity of it. His hand could be anyone's, as though I could be anywhere, enjoying my breakfast and my newspaper (admittedly in the nude) when this unbidden hand takes me by surprise.

Christian Grey is the stuff fantasies are made of, but I let my mind wander through the possibilities: I'm on a train when the man sitting next to me cops a feel; I'm on my lunch break in the park and someone I've never met can't resist a little touch-and-feel; I'm at home on the couch reading when a mysterious hand reaches around and gives me this... mind-shattering... orgasm... from out. of. nowhere.

The waves of pleasure wrack my body and I nearly fall off my stool.

Now the paper is crumpled into an unreadable mess in my hands. As the tremors subside, I smile and look over at Christian. I expect to see that sexy and snide look of accomplishment and satisfaction, but instead I'm faced with one of sheer amusement. He's laughing, and I'm pretty sure it's at me.

"What?" I pant. "Did I do something wrong?"

"You talk when you come, did you know that?"

I blush crimson and drop my head. _Honesty, right?_ That's what he wants.

"Well, I've never done it before last night, so how would I know?"

I sneak a look up at him and his eyes are wide.

"You are full of surprises, Miss Steele. Are you sure you can't stay another night?"

_Oh shit! _"What time is it?" I ask in a panic, slipping off the barstool and taking another bite of pancake before practically running for Christian's study.

"It's nearly two o'clock," he calls, laughing again. What a fantastic sound. I stop and look back at him. He looks his age for once. It really suits him.

"I promised Kate I'd call. She's gonna be worried sick."

When I make it to the study, I'm completely stunned. Last night it had looked like a bomb had gone off — a laptop, a half-dozen books, two bookends, a lamp, and every paper on the planet had been dashed across the floor plus the horrendous mess I had made of the desktop between the dripping and the fingernail gouges. Today, everything is restored to its original state as though nothing ever happened. I'm assuming this Mrs. Jones has magical powers à la Mary Poppins.

I find my purse sitting neatly on the desk and fish out my phone. I send Kate a quick text:

_*Sorry I didn't call, I got busy. I'll tell you all about it tonight at dinner. Beers and hamburgers okay? Love ya!*_

Replacing the phone, I notice the contract sitting in the middle of the desk, still unsigned. I sit and read over it quietly and carefully, refreshing my memory. I don't remember half the stuff in here from last night, but then, I wasn't paying very close attention before. I pick it and my purse up and march back to the kitchen.

Our plates have been cleared and Christian is suddenly dressed. Next to him, I feel even more naked, but somehow it's giving me courage, power.

"We need to talk about this," I say, slapping the contract on the counter.

"Of course," he replies, wrapping his hands around my waist. I try to shake him off, but my heart's not in it. His hands on my skin are distracting but I have to remain on task.

"I need some free time on the weekends. I have a life you know."

His hands start roaming and his face is buried in my hair. He nods and whines slightly before inhaling deeply. Hopefully I'm having as distracting an effect on him — should make negotiations easier.

"Good. I can see you during the week if that helps."

He murmurs in agreement as he pulls me closer to him and begins nibbling the length of my neck.

"And the personal trainer. I can do two times a week."

"You need the stamina, Anastasia," he says between love bites.

"Okay, I'll do three. But I won't do this food thing."

He stops, pulls his head back, and looks at me. "Anastasia, I'm very insistent that you eat properly."

"You have to be able to trust me to do that without the rules." He opens his mouth to protest, but I stop him. "It's a deal-breaker."

He lets go of my waist and we face off. After what seems like an eternity, he asks, "Will you at least try to eat three square meals a day?"

I spend a moment considering that. I suppose I already do _try_. "Alright."

"Fine then." He pulls me back against his body and runs his lips over my collar bone. "Is that everything?"

"Well, about the clothes and stuff," I say.

He takes a half-step back. "Seriously, Ana?" Okay, I might have gone too far. He runs a hand through his hair and turns in a small circle. "If you're going to be my sub, I want to be able to give you nice things. I want to be able to exert a little authority over you, and I want you to want me to do it."

I think back to last night. His punishment was sort of amazing. I wonder if some of these rules are just there so I can break them.

"I'm just not comfortable with you spending your money on me like that. It makes me feel," I mumble. "I don't know, cheap."

He stops. His voice is calmer, gentler, soothing. "You are _not_ a whore, Ana."

"What is the difference between that and a sub?"

Clearly he's never really thought about this before. It takes him a minute before he can respond.

"You're not doing this because of the things I can give you. You're doing this because you want to. Don't you want to?" And I hear that little lost boy again.

"Of course I want to, but this is just so much so fast. I mean, I've never done this stuff before. I don't know how it's supposed to go, what's normal and what isn't."

He smiles slightly. "What's normal isn't important. What you like is what matters."

I smile back. "Well, I like this, and I like you. Why do we need to complicate it? Why do we need all these labels and rules and contracts and everything?"

He wraps his arms around me once more. "The labels don't really matter, but the rules are there for me. I like knowing you're mine and that you're safe and healthy and well cared for." He kisses me softly and I feel such emotion in it. "Besides, I'm going to take you to events and such. You need better clothes and I want you to be dressed appropriately. You can't afford the kinds of clothes I want you dressed in. And I _want_ to spend the money on you."

I let that sink in. Finally I relent. "Okay, but I don't have to wear what you tell me to when I'm not here. My time is my own."

He nods to this.

"Now, I have to get home to make dinner for Kate. I should get dressed." I turn in his arms and try to get free, but he pulls me against him, my back to his front. I feel his arousal pressing against my tender ass and I moan slightly.

"You are a shrewd negotiator, Miss Steele. Are you sure you don't want to come work for me?"

I giggle. "No, thank you, sir. If you paid me, I would _really_ start to feel like a whore." I reach behind me and squeeze his penis firmly, surprising him. His grip around me breaks and I walk away with a wink over my shoulder.

"What about the rest of it, Anastasia?"

I stop and turn, a safe ten feet from his reach. "Can I have a little while to think about it? I need some time to process," I say.

He grumbles low in his chest and, of course, it's sexy as all hell. I come very close to giving in right there and signing the paperwork as-is. "Alright, Miss Steele. I'll have the contract redrafted and email it to you in the next day or so. We can discuss further Wednesday over dinner. Are you free?"

"I am free, Mr. Grey. Dinner sounds lovely." I turn and walk slowly back to the bedroom. When I'm almost out of the room and he hasn't moved a muscle I call over my shoulder, "Now, are you going to fuck me again before I get dressed or what?"

I don't even make it to the doorway and he's scooped me up and thrown me over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, making me yelp. "You are insatiable, Miss Steele," he says and slaps me soundly on the ass as we enter the bedroom.

He throws me down on the bed. "Sit on the edge of the bed." His entire demeanor has changed. He's all business, smoldering and commanding.

I scooch to the foot of the bed, letting my feet touch the floor and look up at him expectantly. He's right in front of me and looking absolutely edible.

"I want you to tell me your experience."

I'm thrown for a bit of a loop by this. I stammer for a moment but he doesn't lose patience."My experience?"

"Your sexual history."

"But," I say. "But you know I don't have any. You're my first."

"Yes, but surely," he says, running his hand through his hair. "You must have had _some_ experience. Kissing, oral sex, fondling, dry humping... Some women enjoy anal sex but remain virgins."

I can feel the blood rushing to my face.

He kneels down in front of me, his hands on my knees. "It's okay, Ana. There's no need to be embarrassed. You need to tell me so I know how far I can push you."

"I've kissed boys before," I volunteer.

He nods, waiting for more. But there's no more. Bradley tried to get a little handsy in 10th grade, but my mom walked in, putting the kibosh on that situation very quickly.

When it becomes clear that there's nothing to expand upon, Christian's placid stare falters slightly. "Oh Jesus," he mutters. "And what I did to you last night..."

"I enjoyed it. Don't overthink this."

He puts his hands on my ass and pulls me toward him, my legs parting for him so I'm essentially straddling him.

"Undo my belt."

I reach down and fumble with the buckle. "Look at my face, Ana."

I look up and he kisses me slowly, letting his tongue explore mine. I feel myself both tense and relax at his touch. I manage his belt finally and toss it to the floor.

"Good. Now my pants." I watch his mouth as he talks, imagining it against my skin. I unbutton and unzip his pants, letting them hang from his hips. He stands and my eyes float down his body. He's barefoot, so when I slide his pants off him, he steps out of them easily, springing free. He must not have been wearing any underwear.

This is the first time I'm really getting a good view of it and even though it's a bit scary, I'm entirely intrigued by his penis. It's right in front of my face and without really thinking about it, I lean forward and kiss the tip lightly.

I hear Christian inhale sharply and his body jerks in reaction. I take more of him in my mouth. He's salty and though he's definitely hard, the skin is much softer and smoother than I imagined, like moss on a rock. I hum in enjoyment when I take him further into my mouth, stretching my jaw wider than it's used to. He grabs two handfuls of my hair at this and grunts.

"Ana," he moans.

I suck hard and pull my head back, running my tongue over the head. Another grunt and I take him slowly into my mouth, surer of myself. With each draught on him, I take a little more in my mouth, pushing further in.

When I feel him pressing against the back of my throat, he squeezes my head slightly. I hum in response and he nearly screams, grabbing my head forcefully.

"Ana, I'm going to come. If you don't want me to come in your mouth, you should stop now."

Something comes over me and as I bob my head along his length, sucking as hard as I can, I lift my hand to lightly cup his balls, then lift my eyes to meet his. He does scream this time and holds my head against him as I feel a spunky hot liquid stream down my throat, his dick spasming in my mouth.

Finally, he releases me and leans down to kiss me. I'm self-conscious of my breath, but he doesn't seem to care.

"Jesus, Ana, don't you have a gag reflex?" he grunts.


	5. Ch 5 - Briefly

**Chapter 5 - Briefly...**

* * *

Around five, we pull up outside my apartment — well, Kate's apartment. I live here nearly rent-free, so I really shouldn't be calling it mine. I'm like a house guest who pays for the utilities.

For a walk of shame, I don't feel that embarrassed. In fact, I feel pretty freaking great. My backside is not smarting as much since Christian rubbed on that fantastic lotion or cream or whatever the hell it was. Christian is walking me to my door for god's sake, and now it feels like I've been on a real date. Sure, a date where I signed a contract not to speak about the nature of our relationship to anyone, lost my virginity, and got smacked around five ways to Sunday, but a date nonetheless.

We make it to the apartment door and I shift my weight from foot to foot awkwardly. I guess I'm expecting him to kiss me, but time is passing and no kiss is coming. Christian is staring down at me intently, but it's like he's trying to analyze me, not woo me. If I'm being honest, I suppose he's already won me, so there's no need to pursue me. There's pain behind his eyes. I am wasting our time standing here.

"Well, I'll see you Wednesday," I mutter finally, and reach for the doorknob. He reaches out and touches my arm gently, sweetly. He's touched me everywhere at this point, in a thousand different ways, but this one is new. I turn and he takes my face in his hands, staring deeply into my eyes.

"You want me to kiss you good night," he says matter-of-factly. When I don't respond, his countenance changes, he becomes authoritative in that familiar way. This is Christian, the Dom.

"Yes, sir."

"I'm not the hearts and flowers kind of guy, Miss Steele. I've told you that."

"I know, sir."

He gently leans in and brushes his lips against mine, taking my breath away for a moment. Like _hell _he's not a hearts and flowers kind of guy. When I regain my composure, I bite my lip.

And then he's on me, filling my mouth with his, his hands roaming over my body until he takes my bottom lip in his teeth and bites down hard, squeezing my breast as he does so. It's awful and wonderful and completely overwhelming.

He stands up straight after a moment. I'm practically gasping for breath but he looks so composed, smoothing the strand of hair that fell from my ponytail. The salty taste of blood lingers in my mouth. I tongue my lip and find a tiny cut on the inside of it. Somehow it feels erotic, tasting my own blood.

"I am sorry about that, but I have told you repeatedly not to bite your lip," he says softly.

Just then, the door swings open and Elliot and Kate appear, as if one writhing body with four arms and four legs grasping at itself desperately. It's a bit difficult to decide where one ends and the other begins. I feel a strong pang of jealousy.

Christian clears his throat after a moment or two and they begrudgingly break apart.

"You ready?" Christian asks his brother.

"Sure thing," comes the reply, though Elliot's eyes never leave Kate's. He kisses her again, with tongue, then marches between me and Christian, calling over his shoulder to Kate, "Laters, baby."

I give Kate and incredulous look then turn to Christian. He leans in to give me a chaste peck on the cheek, whispering, "Laters, baby," in my ear. I laugh at the entirely un-Christian phrase and see his smile. He looks his age again for a split second. I want to see it again. He starts to walk away and I grab my cell phone and text him as quickly as my thumbs will fly.

_*I'm wearing your underwear, Mr. Grey, I hope that's acceptable.*_

His phone beeps a moment later and he fishes it out while climbing into the Audi. His eyes flash up to mine immediately in shock and I shoot him a coy smile before closing the door to the apartment. _Mission accomplished_.

Kate hands me a cold beer and laughs. I'm leaning against the door with a stupid grin on my face.

"You did it, didn't you?" she blurts after a moment.

A blush is surely creeping over not just my face, but my entire body, so I take a long swig of my beer. First Christian can tell I'm a virgin, now Kate can tell I'm not?

"Well, was he any good? How was it? I want to know everything."

Kate takes my hand and leads me to the couch.

I take another long pull on my beer then lick a drop from the neck and flush again. My mind is racing back to Christian Grey's cock in my mouth, licking him clean, the feel of him against the back of my throat.

"It was good." That's all I can manage to get out.

"Just good?" Kate is incredulous.

I consider my words before speaking. Normally I don't censor myself at all with Kate. We speak freely and candidly together, but I signed a non-disclosure agreement, and although I doubt he would sue me, the threat of my time with Christian Grey ending is enough to make me cautious about how much I reveal.

"It was really good, Kate, but I don't..." I hesitate.

"Don't hold out on me now, Steele!"

"It just... It wasn't what I expected." If I talk about me, it's not breaking the contract, right?

"How so?"

That's a tricky question. My first time was _definitely _not how I expected it to be. It was glorious and amazing and so freaking hot, but I'd always expected it to be soft and tender and slow and filled with love. I had imagined there would be candles and music and open-mouthed kissing, and I sure as shit planned on being naked.

On the other hand, Christian Grey was not how I expected him to be, either. I had done my internet research. This was clearly just the introductory stuff, the training, the soft-core if you will. The way he had warned me against being with him, I had pictured whips and chains and ball gags and fucking while someone else watched us. I imagined being bound and trussed and tied seven ways to Sunday and I guess I had given up entirely on the idea of how my first time should be before he picked me up yesterday. That said, our second time had been so very much closer to my original expectations of how my first time would go that I was left a little confused.

"The biggest surprise was how much I enjoyed it, I guess."

Lord, that was the truth. I didn't think I'd actually enjoy being spanked that hard. Sure, I'd be intrigued by the thought of it, but who isn't? That didn't mean I was going to like it. I thought it was something you bore through to get to the good part.

And then, once he'd fucked me so hard, I spent a total of about five minutes (there wasn't a lot of lag time between sessions) believing I couldn't enjoy anything but rough sex for the rest of my life. Christian fucked me then made love to me — and that is undoubtedly what he did — and they were so much the same and so different at the same time. Now I can't imagine existing without both sides of that coin. I know that I _need_ to be used and treated roughly. I also know that I _need_ to be treated like a goddess. I can't see a realistic way I can consistently have both, though, so a sadness rolls over me momentarily.

But looking at Kate's ridiculous expression of excitement, anticipation, and arousal breaks me from my melancholy.

"Did you come?"

I should just resign myself to the fact that my face will be bright red for the duration of this conversation.

"Yes."

Her eyes widen. "More than once?"

I nod.

Her face is colored with glee, or is it envy? "How many times, Ana?"

I count in my head briefly and take a sip of beer. I try to avoid looking at Kate as I finally say, "Four." My reward for the blow job was a nice bit of shower sex. My thoughts wander back to the handheld showerhead. Oh, the things Christian was able to do with it...

Kate sputters and nearly spits out her mouthful of beer, bringing me back to reality. "Four?! It's only been," she looks at her watch. "Hell, Ana, it's only been 24 hours. Don't you sleep?"

I look at her, mystified. I'm pretty sure I got eight hours. "Is that not normal?"

"Hell, most guys can't get it up four times much less make a woman come that much, that often. Especially a virgin." She stares at me for a moment, blinking. "I'm impressed."

I feel the need to deflect. I'm revealing too much about Christian. This could really jeopardize our... Relationship? Situation. Could jeopardize our _situation_.

"Well, he did say I am very 'receptive'."

This is apparently hilarious because Kate spends the next two or three minutes guffawing.

"Is that so?" she says, hiccuping. "I'm still fairly convinced you're dating a sex god."

I sigh. "Yeah, I think so, too."

She laughs and pushes my arm, shoving me slightly. However, thanks to my lack of coordination, I fall off the couch, spilling the remainder of my beer all over Kate's dress that I'm wearing.

"Shit!" I set the bottle down on the coffee table and dab at the massive wet blotch with my bare hands.

"Here, take that off, I'll run it through the wash right now. Don't worry."

I stand up and turn so Kate can unzip me. The feel of her fingers against my skin sends a tingle down my spine and I'm reminded of Christian's touch. I then peel the cranberry dress from my body and hand it to Kate, who is staring, open-mouthed at my crotch.

_Fuck, I'm wearing Christian's boxer briefs!_

"Are those his?" I nod and Kate takes the dress absent-mindedly. She turns to head toward our washing machine closet by the bathroom. "That's fucking hot, Ana."

That deep, dark feeling, that feeling of unstoppable momentum swirls in my groin, nearly knocking me on my feet. The moisture between my thighs tells me her compliment excited me, but not _why_. Is it confirmation that I'm hot, or Christian is, or his underwear is, or our sex life is... Or is it something about _Kate_ saying it.

I shake the thought from my head and make my way to my room to change into some pjs. And of course, by 'pjs' I mean a tank top and Christian's boxer briefs.


	6. Ch 6 - Upkeep

**Chapter 6 – Upkeep**

* * *

After we've finished our burgers, two more beers each, and are tucking into a shared pint of mint cookie ice cream, I feel myself coming down off my Christian Grey high. I've successfully managed to steer the conversation away from my newfound sex life and onto _any other topic_. First it's graduation then it's moving then it's on to Kate's new internship at the newspaper, then we talk about Kate and Ethan's family trip.

Anything to avoid Christian Grey. Anything to clear my head. Part of me wants to think about him, but the rational side knows I need to get him off my brain in order to think logically about whether I'm ready for this.

Signing the contract is a big commitment. Most of it seems fine to me — I can eat three times a day, I can remember the safe words, I can work out. Hell, I think I _need _to so I can keep up with him! I can even try to get eight hours of sleep a night. The things I really only hesitate on a few items: that I can't masturbate (though I've never done it before, why should I care); not being able to look him in the eyes (looking into them is so erotic, I just don't want to not be allowed to); and not being able to touch him (just because I _want _to touch him). Everything else seems if not reasonable than at least doable. I'll try anything once I figure and if something isn't working, hopefully we can discuss it.

An item from the contract pops into my head an I interrupt Kate while she's talking about the spa treatments she's considering on her trip.

"Have you ever been waxed?"

She just blinks back at me for a few moments, her mouth hanging open.

I clear my throat slightly. "You know, down there?"

"Why... Why do you ask, Ana?"

I shovel more Ben & Jerry's in my mouth, talking around the spoon. "You know, Christian might have mentioned he'd like that." See, I didn't say he _did_ say it, just that he _might_ have said it.

"To be completely honest, Ana, it hurts like holy hell."

I blanch. I knew it would hurt, but Kate has to be one of the toughest people I know. She would not admit to it hurting that much unless it was really bad.

"But it _does_ make me more sensitive, so that's a plus." She smiles coyly at me.

My breath hitches trying to imagine being any more sensitive than I already am. I'm hyper-aware of Christian's underwear touching me every time I move. If I was any more sensitive, I'd be moaning and writhing right here on the couch. I blush at the thought of Kate seeing me like that.

"I recommend getting your legs, armpits, and bikini area done before going the whole hog. It's a big commitment to lose it all."

The upkeep for having sex seems far more involved than I'd anticipated. The underwear, the prophylactics, the hair removal... I had no idea. The only saving grace I suppose is that Christian's paying for all these incidentals. I'm not sure my bank account could handle that plus the suit I need to buy for interviews next week.

"How much does that all cost?"

"Well, we could go to a salon, it'd be..." Kate does some additions in her head I guess, then continues, "about $100 at a cheap-ish place. But we could do it with an at-home wax kit for $12."

I hiccup. "Would you do that for me?"

Her face takes on an expression I can't quite read.

"Sure, I have a kit in the bathroom under the sink, why don't you go get it." I hesitate. "We should do this now while you're good and tipsy, before you lose your nerve."

Begrudgingly, I make my way to the bathroom and look under the sink. Lo and behold, behind the tampons and next to the toilet cleaner is an at-home wax kit. I bring it back to Kate, who tells me to get a couple towels to cover the couch. I do as she orders and when I come back I hear the microwave beep.

"It's ready, Ana. Now just lie down and give me a leg." I do as I'm told, practically shaking from frightful anticipation. "The wax is hot, so don't be surprised."

"Hold on!" I grab a pillow and face. I screech a muffled, "Okay!" from my hiding spot.

She's right, the wax is hot, but it's not nearly as painful as I'd anticipated. Kate drips it onto my shin then spreads it up and down slowly. I can't see what she's doing, which is probably for the best. After a few minutes, it becomes this calming, soothing warmth covering my whole lower leg. Then Kate begins the other leg. To be honest, as my mind wanders and my body relaxes, it's turning me on a little. I remember Christian's anonymous hand on my thigh at breakfast, the fantasy I had of being on the couch just like this.

Kate's voice snaps me out of my daydream. "Do you want me to do your thigh, too?" I don't really know how I should answer. "I recommend it," she says, so I nod my head.

Soon, her hand is steadying my leg as she pulls the wax smoothly along my thigh and I can feel my breathing becoming ragged. I remind myself that this is Kate, my best friend, my roommate, and a girl, but part of me is blocking out anything other than pure sensation. I feel my skin tighten and my back arch just slightly.

"Enjoying yourself, hm?" she purrs.

I let out a contented moan in response.

_What in god's name is going on? Is this really happening?_

Next, she lifts the legs of the boxer briefs until her fingers nearly graze my still-sore core. I inhale sharply and press the pillow firmly against my face. She applies the hot wax around the newly-exposed areas, filling me with an urgent need for her to move her fingers just slightly closer.

"Alright, are you ready, Miss Steele?"

My insides tighten when Kate calls me by Christian's pet name for me. How am I seriously this turned on right now?

I can only nod, and when I do, I can feel Kate pressing something into my tender inner thigh. I'm panting. I want a release — any release will do.

And then she rips a strip of my very soul from my body. It hurts. _Oh Jesus_, it hurts. But my mind races back to my first time with Christian. To the spanking. To the delicious pain of it. To the sensual teasing. And like that, I'm building again. The backs of my thighs are still so tender from last night, and when Kate makes it to those spots, lifting my leg so she my knee sits on her shoulder, I'm panting once more. I'm grateful for the pillow acting as a muffler as I moan gently into it.

Finally, she finishes, saying, "All done!" cheerily and grabbing my precious pillow. "So?"

My cheeks are flushed and I must look a sight.

"Was it that bad? You look like you've just run a marathon, Ana."

She has no idea that I'm red because my libido is in overdrive.

God damn Christian Grey and his no masturbating rule!

"It wasn't that bad, Kate," I huff. A look of pity still covers her face. She must not believe me. "I think I'm ready to do the whole thing, Kate."

She laughs. "Really? You are one tough mother, Miss Steele. But that's probably not a good idea tonight."

I'm crestfallen. I was hoping somewhere deep inside that I'd get the orgasm I so desperately wanted from it.

"Not after Christian Grey has banged you into submission for the first time."

_Oh, Kate. You have no idea._

"Besides, we're out of wax. We can get more later in the week and do your underarms. Then you can decide if you want to go the full Brazilian or not."

The idea is definitely appealing but she's right. I shouldn't make a rash decision on this either.

I start to stand up to get another beer when Kate puts her hand between my breasts, pressing my chest back into the couch. I nearly shriek.

"Just a minute. You're not done yet. Let me get the lotion."

I watch her ponytail bob around the corner and shiver. I take a steadying breath before she comes bounding back, landing between my legs and spreading my knees gently. She rubs lotion between her hands and starts first on my right thigh, working the lotion in deeply, massaging my sore muscles.

"I figure you're probably sore, right? How hard did he ride you, Ana?"

I close my eyes and hold my breath. Yes, I'm incredibly sore. This is more painful than the waxing, but also more satisfying. I groan.

"Hm, that bad, huh? Well, let me tell you something, if he's anything like his brother, he has got some skills." My eyes fly open and I watch Kate talk as she rubs me, moving her hands easily over my skin.

"I must have come three times last night. The man is a powerhouse. He did things I've never done before." She pauses and looks at me. "And I've done a _lot_ before." Her eyes drop back down to my thighs. "He does this thing with his fingertips... Like this."

She skims the flesh between my butt and my thigh with the very ends of her fingers. Completely involuntarily, my hips buck. She laughs.

"See? And he did _this_ while he was going down on me."

This time she lifts my shirt slightly and runs her fingers just below my belly button, but stops half-way.

"I can't do it from here, hold on. He was like this." She scoots down until her head is between my legs. I nearly squeeze her head with my thighs but manage to restrain myself. Then, wrapping her arms around each leg, she tries the maneuver again, letting her fingers skate along my lower torso. She looks up and we lock eyes. I can barely control myself anymore. This is ridiculous. Were her eyes always so green? I can feel her hot breath against Christian's underwear, inches away from my clit.

Her voice is soft and sexy. "It's good, right?"

_Holy shit!_ Is she coming on to me? As much as I was surprised at being turned on by Kate, I'm fucking floored that I could turn her on? That she would possibly act on it. _Would_ she act on it?

I nod my head slowly, holding her gaze.

"Kate, are you..."

But I never finish my question because my phone rings. She sits up slowly and reaches for it, sitting on the coffee table. On the third ring, she looks up from the screen at me, answering the phone.

"Hello, this is Anastasia Steele's phone. May I ask who's calling?" She has a wicked little smile on her face. "Just one moment, Mr. Grey."

Oh, I can only imagine what his reaction to that will be.


	7. Ch 7 - Long and Awaited

_First, I want to say I am _so_ sorry. I have completely ignored both of my stories for literally months and I feel unbelievably guilty about it. But, since I last updated, I've opened four shows and moved for the summer, so I just straight-up didn't have time. Now, finally, things are slowing down a tad and it gives me the ability to devote a little time to writing again. _

_Many thanks to ShadoeCoon, Jdwen2, and kikij223 for kicking me in the ass to update. I hope to be updating Less Than Lucky in the next couple of days as well. I know this chapter leaves you wanting more, but... that's sort of the idea, huh?_

* * *

Ch 7 - Long and Awaited

* * *

Reluctantly, I take the phone from her and hold it to my ear. She shoots me a mischievous look.

"Hello, Mr. Grey," I murmur into the phone.

"Miss Steele," his buttery voice begins. "Was that Miss Cavanagh?"

"Yes it was," I say, smiling back at my roommate before turning from her and standing up.

"Is she still there?"

"Yes she is, Mr. Grey."

"Well, in that case, please call me Christian."

Kate walks up behind me and with her warm, slick hands begins kneading my sore legs once again. I let out a surprised little squeak.

"Anastasia?"

I smack Kate playfully on the arm.

"Sorry, yes, of course, Chrisitan." It really is a pleasure to say his name.

Kate's hands are still working my muscles slowly, so I turn to face her, an incredulous look on my face. I mouth "quit it" but she just grins back at me, now massaging the backs of my thighs, pulling me into her body slightly. It's infuriating.

"So, Christian," I manage to sound pleasant and light thankfully. "To what do I owe the honor of this call?"

"I just wanted to check in and make sure you were feeling alright."

Kate's fingers are creeping up my thighs towards that crease at the bottom of my butt she'd been playing with earlier. She giggles lightly. _Dammit_.

"I'm alright."

I try to wiggle out of her grip, but she is definitely a bit taller and a bit stronger than I am, so it's no use.

"You're not too sore?" He sounds genuinely concerned.

Kate starts running her finger tips along that sensitive spot slowly, like she'd done before, and a soft moan escapes my lips.

"Anastasia?"

"Sorry, no, I'm not. It's okay."

"Are you alright? Is something the matter. You don't sound quite yourself."

My hips buck slightly into Kate's and she lets out a soft peal of laughter. It gives me goosebumps on my arms.

"Yes, it's... It's just Kate." I look straight into her eyes, which are half-moons from her gigantic smile. She's really enjoying this.

"Okay, well, don't let her tease you too much."

_You have no idea, Christian Grey_. "I'll try not to let her."

And just like that, Kate winks at me, leans in, and kisses me straight on the mouth before giving me a sharp smack on my already abused ass and walking away.

"To be honest, Miss Steele," I hear Christian in a small, far-away kind of voice say. "I called for another reason. Can you make an excuse and slip away to your bedroom?"

I stand there, open-mouthed for a moment before I come back to my senses. "Absolutely. Just a moment please."

I hold my hand over the receiver before pointing at her, whisper-yelling, "I'll deal with you later," and running my finger across my throat. I march off to my room, leaving her cleaning up the food, beer, wax, and lotion.

After I've firmly closed the door and turned on a little music so I won't be overheard by my overly curious, privacy-defying, incredibly sexy roommate, I sit down on my bed.

"Alright, Mr. Grey, how can I help you?"

I can practically hear him smile. "Good. Very good, Miss Steele." I'll admit, I'm so proud of myself that I've pleased him. "Now I'd like you to tell me what you are wearing at the moment."

I know it's a little cliché, but he's so clinical in the question, that I just answer instead of trying to be cute.

"Uh, a pink tank top and," I hesitate slightly. "And, um, your boxer briefs, sir."

"Good. You're not wearing any socks, no bra?"

"No, sir."

"Good. And where are you right now?"

"On my bed."

There's a moment of silence.

"Sir."

_Shit. _"On my bed, _sir_."

"Miss Steele, you know you must be punished for every infraction. If I don't punish you, how can you learn?"

I feel my whole body tense up.

"But right now, I'd like you to remove your tank top."

I hesitate.

"Mr. Grey?"

"Yes, Miss Steele?"

_You can't see me, can you? _That's what I want to say. But I can't make myself say it. Part of me doesn't want to know. I wouldn't put it past Christian Grey.

"Hold on a moment, please."

I set the phone down on the quilt and take my tank top off, tossing it on the floor, then pick the phone back up.

"Now, Miss Steele," he says in a very disapproving tone. "Did you just throw your clothes on the floor?"

I blush. _He can see me!_

"Yes, sir."

"Pick up your shirt and fold it."

"Just a moment, sir." I set the phone down again. I fold the shirt and put it away. "Okay, I'm done, sir."

"Good. It's important to keep things tidy, Miss Steele. Now, lay back on your bed."

I do as I'm told.

"We're going to need to get you a hands-free device I think, but we have to work with what we have tonight. Which hand are you holding the phone with?"

"My left, sir."

"Good. With your right hand, run your fingertips slowly along the side of your body."

I blush again. I'm still feeling flustered from my evening with Kate. This is almost too much for me to bear.

"I thought you said I wasn't allowed to," I blush further if it's possible. "To _masturbate_," I whisper.

"You haven't signed the contract yet," he says matter-of-factly. "Now, start at your hip."

I touch the pads of three fingers to my skin at my hipbone and move slowly up my body.

"Close your eyes and begin."

I close my eyes and the sensation becomes more sexual suddenly, more sensual. My fingers slide over my ribs and I nearly purr.

"Now, once you reach your breast, lightly skim your fingers along the side of it."

I let out a soft sigh.

"Miss Steele, you're going to want to be more descriptive than that."

My eyes pop open when I realize what he's asking me to do. I look around the room to see if Kate is watching me, which of course, she isn't. I close my eyes once more.

"Mr. Grey, I wish you were here to do this."

"God, me too," I hear him murmur quietly. "Run your fingers in a spiral over your breast," and like that, he's back to his equally sexy business mode. "When you reach the nipple, you'll squeeze it. Hard."

I do as I'm told and shudder when I reach my nipple. "Oh, it hurts, Mr. Grey," I moan into the phone.

"You remember your safeword, Miss Steele?"

I nod into the phone, "Yes, sir."

"Good. Run the flat of your palm down your stomach," he says.

It's such a different sensation than the cool grazing of my fingertips that it almost surprises me.

"Oh Jesus," I pant.

"When you reach my underwear, I want you to go _over_ the fabric with the flat of your palm gently."

"I'm so close, sir." And I am. I am so very close. Hell, I was close when the phone rang.

"Good. Stop."

"But Christian," I whine. There's silence. "I'm sorry, Mr. Grey."

"No, you're not. But you will be."

_Oh good God, save me from this man._

"You won't touch yourself tonight. You'll sleep without a shirt, in my underwear, and you'll send me a text message when you wake up."

I can hear the glee in his voice. He's enjoying the hell out of this.

_"_Sweet dreams, Miss Steele."

"Good night, Mr. Grey."


	8. Ch 8 - Morning

_Okay folks, I am sorry._

_I'm sorry I left you hanging. I'm sorry I haven't been attentive to this story or my other story._

_You see the problem is I have been reading more books._

_There are two consequences of reading more books: 1. I have less time to write; 2. I want to write more stories about other books._

_You see, now I really want to write a _Divergent_ fanfic. I have a few thoughts on what it could focus on. _

_I know, though, that if I start a _Divergent_ fic, I'm less likely to update this story often. _

_Life is about to slow down a bit for at least a couple weeks, so hopefully I will have some quality writing time available._

_Have any of you read _Divergent_ and _Insurgent_? Are you as into it as I am? I see Four as being very similar in a way to Christian. Let me know what you think. I'm so curious._

_Also, would anyone be interested in reading a _Divergent_ fic from me? Probably wouldn't be very smutty. Just putting that out there._

_Anyway, don't get too mad at me about this chapter. I had to break the ice somehow. This is an opportunity._

* * *

Chapter 8 - Morning

* * *

Christian has tied me to the chair in the corner of my bedroom. It's an old, plain, wooden thing, and the solidity of the seat is made all the harder by how tightly I'm trussed to it. I'm only wearing his underwear still, and the rope he used to tie me up rubs harshly against my torso.

He's been pacing around my room for God knows how long with a determined look on his face. I've disappointed him. Again.

"Miss Steele, you did _not_ follow my instructions." His voice is low and I feel it rumble in my chest. I feel it rumble in my ass, too. "I specifically told you —"

"I know, sir!" My plea is desperate. I'm so ashamed and, quite honestly, disappointed in myself, which I don't expect.

Clearly my plea was a little too desperate, a little too loud. I can hear Kate stirring in the next room.

"I specifically told you, Miss Steele," he eyes me angrily. "_Not_ to interrupt me." He reaches into his inside jacket pocket and produces a small pair of scissors.

_Holy crap, what the hell is he going to do with those?!_

I start to panic and begin pulling against the rope, but there's no chance of getting free. Christian clearly is very skilled at knot tying.

He comes towards me.

"I have to punish you, Miss Steele. For your insolence."

He leans over and my breath is ragged. I'm ready to scream, to safeword, whatever I need to do.

He looks down and a sadness passes over his face.

"And I was so enjoying looking at you in these."

He deftly cuts up each leg of the boxer briefs and pulls them out from under me. I'm now completely naked. I can feel the wood from the seat against my sex and nearly groan.

He stands up swiftly and lifts the tattered remains of his underwear up to his face. He takes a deep breath in then discards them in the corner.

"Oh, Miss Steele, you smell divine."

I feel every inch of my skin blushing. I know he can see it. He takes a long moment, letting his eyes run over my body.

"As I was saying," he finally says. "I specifically told you, Miss Steele, _not_ to let Miss Kavanagh tease you too much." _What?_ "But you didn't listen, did you?"

I stare at him, open-mouthed. _What_ is he talking about? How does he know what happened last night?

"Answer me!" he shouts.

And, that's it. There's a bang on the door. _Kate_.

"What the hell is going on in there, Christian?" I hear her almost yell through the door.

He eyes me and lifts his eyebrows in a _See? Look what you did_ sort of expression. My mouth is still hanging open.

"Answer me," he says gently this time.

"Ana, are you alright in there?" Kate says loudly from the other side of the door.

"If you won't answer me, Miss Steele, I will gag you and then you don't get the privilege of speaking anymore."

I move my lips but the only sound is Kate's fist against the door, the jiggling of the doorknob.

He sighs and produces a beautiful blue patterned knecktie from his jacket pocket – _What doesn't he keep in there?_ – and proceeds to gag me, tying it behind my head.

"You look beautiful," he says. "Now we must think of a suitable punishment for your misbehavior, don't we?"

"Let me in!" Kate is almost screaming now.

A mischievous grin spreads across his face. _Oh shit._

"Shall I?"

I shake my head furiously, but his hand is already on the knob.

I scream into my gag, but all that comes out is a muffled murmur.

"I'm so glad you agree, Miss Steele," he says and he opens the door wide, grinning like a loon.

Kate stands in the doorway wearing her oversized "30 Seconds to Mars" t-shirt she sleeps in. I know she has a pair of panties on, but her legs are completely bare. Her mile-long legs.

Her eyes dart from Christian to me to Christian to me, shock written all over her face.

"What the hell is going on, Christian?"

"We're having a little party, Miss Kavanagh. Would you like to join us?"

I expect Kate to run over and untie me. I expect Kate to punch Christian Grey smack dab in the middle of his nose. I expect her to scream and call the police.

She doesn't do any of those things.

Nope.

That's right, Kate — _my_ Kate — begins to laugh.

She laughs and giggles and points at me and doubles over.

I feel so completely vulnerable, so bare, so exposed I wish I could crawl into a hole somewhere and die.

But then Kate does something even more surprising. Still giggling, she walks slowly over to me, bends over, puts both hands on my thighs, and whispers in my ear, "You look great, Miss Steele."

I feel every muscle in my body tighten. I know my eyes are close to popping out of my head.

She stands back up slowly and I stare at her.

She _was _coming on to me. How have I never realized it before?

Christian walks up behind her, looking at me over Kate's shoulder.

"Very nice craftsmanship, Mr. Grey. She looks delectable," she says.

"Why thank you, Miss Kavanagh," he says. I watch in awe as he lets his fingertips run up her right thigh, lifting the hem of her t-shirt. A surge of jealousy runs through me, but something else, too. Lust?

"Well, what do you say," he mutters as he lowers his head to that sensitive space between her neck and her shoulder, kissing it gently. Her head rolls away from his, giving him purchase. His hand on her thigh starts tugging lightly at her panties — a blue lace pair we bought together last week — and his other hand pulls her chin further out of the way. He nibbles along her neck and I hear her moan. I'm so turned on that my chair is getting slippery. "Would you like to join our little party?"

"Oh yes, Mr. Grey," she says in a breathy grumble.

I watch, which is all I can do, as Kate runs her hand behind her and unzips Christians jeans, taking him in her skilled hand and running up and down his length. They kiss passionately and Christian's eyes meet mine.

I can't touch them.

Kate breaks their kiss and lets go of Christian. She steps forward a couple inches closer to me and takes off her t-shirt in one fell swoop.

Her breasts are perfect. And they're at eye-level.

She has a thoughtful look on her face. She takes a couple steps forward and sits on my lap, so I can feel her panties against my thighs, I can feel her breasts just inches from me. Oh hell, I wish I could move.

Christian is somehow naked. I'm not really sure when that happened, but it is so distracting. _Distracting me from what? Kate's breasts?_

Then he walks up behind Kate and without bending over at all, rests his hands on her breasts, massaging them.

"You have beautiful breasts, Miss Kavanagh," he says, his eyes locked on mine. I can't look away from him. "Don't you think she has beautiful breasts, Miss Steele?"

I'm intoxicated by his voice, by their proximity, by everything that's happening. I nod slowly.

"Well, I just want to bite Ana's breasts," she purrs. I can hear hunger in her voice.

"Why don't you, Miss Kavanagh?" he says.

"Mmmm," she says, like she's in a soup commercial, licking her lips. She stands up, pressing her ass against Christian, wiggles a little, and then bends at the hips and does just that: she bites my breasts. And _Jesus_ does it feel incredible.

"Miss Steele, I'm going to fuck Miss Kavanagh, if that's alright with you." My head is thrown completely back and I'm so close already that I cannot complain about anything. I feel the ropes straining against every part of my body. I hear the tearing of a foil wrapper, of her panties.

Kate releases my breasts and places her hands in the creases between my thighs and my torso. I look at her and she gives me an evil, sexy wink. Her thumbs press against my clit lightly.

And then Christian hooks his hands around Kate's hips and pounds into her. She jerks forward towards me and the pressure of her thumbs. Feels. So. Good.

Then they both pull back slowly. I lock eyes with Christian. I gasp. He smiles then rams into her again and Kate slips a thumb inside of me. I scream into my gag.

We continue this sweet rhythm I have no idea how long, quickening the pace until we're all panting.

"Are you ready, Anastasia?"

I know that barely anything is needed to push me over the edge. I nod vigorously. Christian and Kate both smile wickedly and on the next, violent thrust, Christian smacks Kate's ass hard, and she plunges her other thumb inside of me as we scream together.

* * *

I wake up and find I have one hand on my left breast and one hand down the front of Christian's underwear. I feel myself shuddering from after-shocks under my fingertips. _Oh my_, I have never masturbated before much less done it _in my sleep_.

My first ever wet dream.

_What the hell was that?! _Is _that_ what I want? Is that what turns me on? I want to say no, but that is the most vivid dream I have ever had.

And the hottest.

I chug the glass of water on my nightstand and grab my phone. I hesitate, but I send Christian a text message like he asked.

_*I'm awake, sir.*_

There's an immediate reply.

_*Did you have a nice dream?*_

I giggle to myself and flop backwards on the bed.

"You have _no_ idea, Mr. Grey," I say out loud.


	9. Ch 9 - Research

_Hello, loyal readers._

_A word to the world: this fic WILL involve:_

_woman-on-woman sex; threesomes in fantasy and actuality; voyeurism; and probably some other acts that were NOT included in the original series._

_Anyone who is offended by these things should NOT be reading. Stop. Go away._

_DON'T post judgmental or offensive things in the comments. I'll delete them. And it won't be the first time._

_"This threesome shit is __disgusting" is not appreciated._

_To everyone else, please enjoy all the horny, fucked-up things that will be featured throughout this story._

_Sorry this chapter doesn't include any sex. In the next chapter, we'll be returning to the standard smut._

* * *

**Ch 9**

* * *

Finally, I force myself to reply to Christian's text.

_*Yes, sir. Very nice indeed.*_

Not a minute after I hit send, my phone pings.

_*Ah, but did you behave yourself, Miss Steele?*_

I am now completely convinced. He _must_ know. There's got to be a camera somewhere in my room. I wave my hand around just in case to let him know I know.

_*Any misbehavior was completely unconscious, Mr. Grey*_

I wait for a reply but it's long in coming. I decide to hit the shower and get dressed instead of focusing on it.

Before I've even finished drying off, I hear the doorbell.

Who in their right mind would show up here at 8:30 in the morning? None of our friends ring the doorbell anyway. We don't have a peephole, so I just open the door.

A young man with a pony tail is standing there in a uniform-style polo shirt and khaki pants, looking enthusiastic and cheery. It's way too early for that. He's holding a large box.

"Hello," I say in surprise. Just not what I expected. I'm not sure what I expected.

"Miss Steele?" I nod. He suddenly looks _very _uncomfortable, attempting to look everywhere but at me. He is failing miserably.

I realize I'm in my tiny towel and nothing else, dripping wet. I guess it's time I invest in a bathrobe.

"I have a delivery for you, may I come in to set it up?"

I take a step back and grant him entry.

"Where would you like me to set this up?" he asks.

"Well, what is it?"

"It's a pre-release MacBook Pro."

Of course it is.

"On the dining room table is fine," I say, leading him there. "Now, will you excuse me, I really should get dressed."

I head into my room, feeling his eyes on my ass as I walk. I slam the door behind me.

Picking up my phone, I see I have a new text message from Christian Grey.

_*I think I will have to hold you responsible for unconscious indiscretions. Doesn't seem fair you should have a free pass just because you're asleep, Miss Steele*_

My fingers fly over the keys in reply.

_*I don't particularly think that's fair. Meanwhile, what's with the computer?*_

He replies right away this time.

_*Good, it was delivered. It's for research. I want you to know what you're getting yourself into.*_

_Ha_, like I didn't get a first-hand demonstration last night.

_*I already have an idea of what I'm getting myself into and I have the sore ass to prove it.*_

"Miss Steele?" I hear the tech guy call from the other room.

I quickly throw on a pair of jeans and a tank top, not bothering to waste time on a bra or underwear. At least I'm more covered than I was when I met the poor guy.

Walking out of my room, I see that the computer is all set up. I sit down next to him at the table.

"Now, Miss Steele, I'm going to show you how to set up your new Grey Industries email address and how to access the internet. Is there anything else you'd like to do on this computer?"

I think for a minute. New email address? I already have my WSU email. I guess it'd be better to have a more professional address. And it would be great to work on my resume on this computer.

"Word processing?"

He gives me a rundown of all the applications on the computer, explaining that the iTunes account is linked to Mr. Grey's, so I should be able to purchase any music I want or any additional applications I may need without incurring any expense.

I roll my eyes.

"Thank you," I say, showing him out.

He's making me so uncomfortable, constantly sneaking peeks at my chest. _Ah, yeah_, I remember. _No bra._

Finally he leaves and I head back over to the computer. I already have an email.

* * *

From: Christian Grey

Subject: New Contract

Date: May 23 2011 9:15

To: Anastasia Steele

Miss Steele,

I've attached a revised copy of our contract. Please have a look over it, do some research (despite your _extensive_ first-hand knowledge), and let me know of any changes you'd like to make. I'll have it updated and we can just proceed with signing on Wednesday evening. I don't like to leave these things waiting.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

PS, I expect a full accounting of the dream in question at dinner Wednesday.

* * *

I take the computer into my bedroom and close the door. This research and the contract aren't things I really want Kate looking at over my shoulder. My abdominal muscles tense at the thought. It would embarrass the hell out of me.

I open up the contract pdf and really read it carefully. The main part of the contract only has two changes:

* * *

12 The Submissive will make herself available to the Dominant from Friday evenings through to Sunday afternoons _**every second, third, and fourth weekend of the month**_ during the Term at times to be specified by the Dominant ("the Allotted Times"). Further allocated time can be mutually agreed on an ad hoc basis;

* * *

And

* * *

_**15.25 The Submissive will be forthright with the Dominant in regards to her sexual experience and any discomfort, physical or emotional, she may experience without the need for the Dominant to prompt her**_

* * *

I guess I should have anticipated him adding a clause to that effect. I continue on with the appendices. The changes I see are just as we discussed for the most part.

* * *

Food:

The Submissive will eat regularly to maintain her health and _**make every effort to eat three full, healthy meals daily.**_

Clothes:

During the Term the Submissive will wear clothing only approved by the Dominant _**while in his presence.**_ The Dominant will provide a clothing budget for the Submissive, which the Submissive shall utilize. The Dominant shall accompany the Submissive to purchase clothing on an ad hoc basis. If the Dominant so requires the Submissive shall during the Term wear adornments the Dominant shall require, in the presence of the Dominant.

Exercise:

The Dominant shall provide the Submissive with a personal trainer _**three**_ times a week in hour-long sessions at times to be mutually agreed between the personal trainer and the Submissive. The personal trainer will report to the Dominant on the Submissive's progress.

Personal Hygiene/Beauty:

The Submissive will keep herself clean and shaved and/or waxed at all times. The Submissive will visit a beauty salon of the Dominant's choosing at times to be _**agreed on by the Dominant**_ _**and the Submissive**_, and undergo whatever treatments the Dominant sees fit. All costs will be met by the Dominant.

* * *

But one thing is now sticking out to me that didn't before.

* * *

Personal Qualities:

The Submissive will not enter into any sexual relations with anyone other than the Dominant.

* * *

Crap. It shouldn't be a problem, and yet I hesitate. Once I sign this, I've shut that door on that dream. I shiver briefly remembering it. Perhaps this warrants a real discussion.

No. I'm being ridiculous. I'm not going to "enter into any sexual relations" with Kate.

I'm not.

I chant this to myself but my Inner Goddess lowers her oversize Jackie O-style sunglasses and peers at me with a knowing smile.

I'm not, dammit.

The last things to look over are the hard and soft limits. The hard limits all seem totally reasonable. I wouldn't want to do any of these things anyway. _Children?_ No thank you.

The soft limits is something like a survey.

* * *

APPENDIX 3

Soft Limits

To be discussed and agreed between both parties:

Which of the following sexual acts are acceptable to the Submissive?

• Masturbation

• Fellatio

• Cunnilingus

• Vaginal intercourse

• Vaginal fisting

• Anal intercourse

• Anal fisting

* * *

I'm a bit skeptical on those last three so I decide to open up Firefox and do a quick Google search.

The images that come up are horrifying, but I decide not to judge it by the depraved things people advertise on the internet. I click on the link to Wikipedia's article on fisting.

What stands out to me is the heading of "Risks":

_Fisting can cause laceration or perforation of the vagina, perineum, rectum, and/or colon, resulting in serious injury[4] and even death.[5][6][7][8] In general, sexual activities that cause air to enter the vagina can lead to a fatal air embolism, and the risk is probably even higher during pregnancy.[9]_

Absolutely not. I won't be doing that any time soon.

I squirm in my seat just thinking about it.

When I look up "anal sex" on the same site, I am sort of overwhelmed by how much more comprehensive the article is. There's entries about how it's viewed in different cultures, different religions, and how different male-female setups would work. The female-to-male one is completely confusing to me, but I skip over it.

Quite honestly, after having read the whole thing, it sounds like if your partner knows what he's doing, it's safe and very enjoyable. I assume Christian knows what he's doing. He doesn't seem like the type to undertake something like this without doing his own crazy-obsessive level of research.

It's something I'd consider. I think I have to work my way up to.

* * *

Is swallowing semen acceptable to the Submissive?

* * *

Done and doner.

* * *

Is the use of sex toys acceptable to the Submissive?

• Vibrators

• Dildos

• Butt Plugs

Other

* * *

Another quick Google search and I decide that other than the blanket term "other" I should be fine with it. Why not?

* * *

Is Bondage acceptable to the Submissive?

• Hands in front

• Hands behind back

• Ankles

• Knees

• Elbows

• Wrists to ankles

• Spreader bars

• Tied to furniture

• Blindfolding

• Gagging

• Bondage with Rope

• Bondage with Tape

• Bondage with leather cuffs

• Suspension

• Bondage with handcuffs/metal restraints

* * *

Okay, so that's a lot, and I guess the only one that scares me is suspension. After coming across an image of a woman hanging from her back piercings, I'm pretty turned off by the whole idea of it.

* * *

What is the Submissive's general attitude about receiving pain? Where 1 is likes intensely and 5 is dislikes intensely: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5

How much pain does the submissive want to receive? Where 1 is none and 5 is severe: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5

* * *

I don't really know how to answer those ones.

* * *

Which of the following types of pain/punishment/discipline are acceptable to the Submissive?

• Spanking

• Paddling

• Whipping

• Caning

• Biting

• Nipple clamps

• Genital clamps

• Ice

• Hot wax

• Other types/methods of pain

* * *

"Genital clamps" are a definite no. I don't even have to search that one. I can tell from the name that it's not something I could ever do. Ever. Jesus.

Caning scares the shit out of me, so maybe I should go ahead and rule that out as well. Just to be safe.

I compose a reply to Christian's email:

* * *

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: New Contract Amendments

Date: May 23 2011 10:15

To: Christian Grey

Mr. Grey

I've read over the new contract and have attached my updates including my answers on Appendix 3. There are still a few items up for discussion on Wednesday, but this is just my first shot at it.

I've come across one other provision that has me hesitating. It's not a big deal, but perhaps it's something else we can discuss in person.

Thank you very much for the computer — it is proving to be an excellent research tool. I admit, I overestimated my knowledge base.

Anastasia Steele

PS, I can tell you about the dream if you promise not to get mad.


	10. Ch 10 - The Funbox

_Thanks so much for all the great, positive reviews, everybody. They really are a great boost to my day._

_I had planned on finishing the chapter and posting it sooner, but I was _epically_ sick today so it just didn't happen._

_Also, I promised you smut this chapter. Alas, I didn't quite deliver because the chapter was going to be too long. But I bet you can tell what'll happen in chapter 11!_

_In case this fic gets taken down, I want to set up a quick site — anyone have any suggestions? I have a website for work because I'm a freelancer, but I don't really want these smutty stories being searchable by my email address or anything. PM me please._

_As always, favorite, follow, review please! Laters!_

* * *

**Ch. 10**

* * *

José calls me that afternoon while I'm at work.

"Hey, are we doing coffee?" He sounds like his old self. Thank god.

"Sure. I'm at work. Can you make it here, for, say, twelve?"

"See you then."

I'll say this, José is never late. He runs into the store and wraps me in a huge hug. "Ana," he smiles.

Something is different. He's the same. I swear he's the same. Maybe _I'm_ different. I hope he can't tell. "Hi, José," I say, trying to sound casual, but my voice sounds totally different to my ears. More mature.

I let Mrs. Clayton know I'm heading out for lunch before we head to the coffee shop.

I order tea and a cheese sandwich, José gets a coffee and a muffin. He must have skipped breakfast. He never eats breakfast.

We find a nice table by the window. I forgot these chairs were plain wood seats. Memories of my dream flood back and I feel myself blushing. I feel something tighten deep inside of me. I'm so surprised by it that I plop myself onto the chair less than gracefully. The soreness in my ass makes me wince slightly.

"Are you alright, Ana?"

_Shit_. José must have seen. Shit. I suck at lying.

"Yeah, I fell in the bathroom yesterday. I'm just a little sore."

_"_Jesus, are you okay?"

I nod, hoping he'll drop it.

He eyes me for a moment then stares at his coffee.

"Do you really forgive me, Ana?" he murmurs to his oversized mug.

"José, you know I can never stay mad at you for long."

He grins stupidly at me. At least some things don't change.

* * *

I spend all of Tuesday packing and occasionally researching my new lifestyle — I've resigned myself to the fact that I'm committed.

I haven't seen Kate since Sunday night because her family is in town for graduation on Thursday. We plan to hang out during the day Wednesday. She said she'd help me finish off the waxing and then do a little shopping before my date that night. I'm getting more and more nervous as Tuesday evening rolls around, both about my dinner with Christian and about my daytime plans with Kate.

As I drift off to sleep, I check my phone one more time. I have a new text from Christian.

* * *

_*Looking forward to dinner tomorrow. I'll pick you up at 6pm. See you then.*_

* * *

I reply,

* * *

_*I'm sure I'll see you sooner than that - in my dreams.*_

* * *

Before I put my phone down, it pings. There's a new reply.

* * *

_*I really can't wait to hear about this dream. Care to give me a preview?*_

* * *

I smile to myself.

* * *

_*I was tied to my bedroom chair wearing just your underwear*_

* * *

I hit send and wait. I compose another one.

* * *

_*And then you cut them off me and I was completely naked.*_

* * *

I hesitate just a moment too long. A text from Kate pops up just as I hit send. _Shit!_ I sent it to Kate.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I open her text.

* * *

_*Does 10am work for our intimate waxing session? You haven't pussied out yet, have you?*_

* * *

Crap.

There's a long three minutes before she knocks on my bedroom door. My phone keeps pinging but I ignore it.

I open the door, my entire body red from blushing.

"Uh, Ana, I think you sexted the wrong person accidentally."

I cover my face with my hands. I could not be more embarrassed.

"Is that a new laptop?" she asks, shock in her voice.

"Um, yes," I murmur. Before I can stop her, she plops down on my bed in her tiny bicycle shorts and opens up the MacBook Pro.

"Wow, Ana. This, uh, is some kind of research," she giggles.

I run over and see that a webpage discussing different types of vibrators and dildos is open, complete with full-color pictures of toys and video of how to use them.

Aha, it turns out I _can_ be more embarrassed.

I slam the screen shut.

"Uh, that's, uh... I didn't mean for you," I stutter. I glance up at her to find her with a giant grin across her face.

"It's okay, Ana." She eases the laptop out of my arms and fires it back up. "Just, these ones here are too much for you. Try this." She pulls up a new page and enters in a web address for a sex shop called Babeland. She clicks through as though she's been to it a hundred times. She points at the screen and smiles at me.

"This one is a good starter." I stare at her. I knew she was experienced, but somehow I thought this would be a bit too freaky for her. "Is this just for you or for you and a buddy?"

"Uh, Kate, I don't really... I'm not really looking. I was just curious." She eyes me incredulously. "Christian may have mentioned it," I say, thinking about the soft limits in the contract. "But I don't really know how intense it would be. It scares me a little." She gives me that sexy, mischievous smile again and hops off the bed, rushing out of the room. I sit awkwardly on the bed, holding my head in my hands. I think my face will be red for the next hour. I can't take much more of this.

A minute later, she's back with a small box. It's decorated and looks sort of like an oversized jewelry box. Across the top it says, "Funbox" in gold calligraphy. She jumps back onto the bed next to me, bouncing before settling. She sits cross-legged and puts the box in her lap facing me.

"You better not freaking judge me, Steele," she says as she opens the box and I nearly spit-take.

The interior is lined with sky blue velvet and slid into the custom-sized depressions are three pink sex toys.

I know my mouth is hanging open like I'm catching flies. I try to talk, to respond in some way, but I just wind up flapping my jaw.

"So, this one," Kate says, pulling the largest one out of the box. It's smooth, shiny pink plastic, shaped like a missile. It has to be at least 10" long and about 3" around. It looks more like a toddler's arm than a penis in my opinion. "I got this one last year after dating Jorge. You remember Jorge?"

I remember Jorge. He was the largest 22-year-old I have ever met. He was a linebacker for the WSU team. About 6'5" and probably 250lbs of pure muscle and genetic perfection. Meeting him was like that scene in _Twins_ when they explain that Arnold is all the good genes and Danny DeVito is all the bad ones. They dated for all of about three weeks. I barely slept during that time because of all the noise they made. All night.

I nod. I don't get it.

"What can I say, I craved the size once we broke up."

_Oh._

"It's just a dildo, it doesn't do anything, but it _is_ big."

She's got that right.

I try to imagine that in my... It's laughable. Hell, it's painful. I try to imagine a penis that size and I fail miserably.

"This one," she says, replacing the giant Jorge cock, "I got when I was dating Jeanette."

Jeanette?

I don't remember any Jeanette.

I would remember Jeanette.

This one's not nearly as scary as Jorge. It's got some sort of cute penguin on the front. I spend a few seconds wondering what any possible purpose of that could be. I'm distracted when she presses a small button on the side and the whole thing kicks to life. Swirling, vibrating, flicking.

"Here," she says, grabbing my index finger and pressing it against the penguin's beak.

Holy shit, that thing is moving fast. I blush crimson and pull my finger back to the sounds of Kate's giggles.

She picks up the last one, a small pink non-fallus-shaped vibrator. "This one I got when I was in high school. It is great. It's my go-to," she says.

She hands it to me and I receive it unwittingly into my hand. It feels comfortable in my hand.

"Press here," she says, pointing at a small "plus" sign on the back of it, near where my thumb is.

Depending how many times I press, it vibrates at different speeds, different rhythms.

"You should start with something like Billy."

Billy?

"I named her Billie after Billie Piper. You know, from _Confessions of a London Call-Girl_?"

Ah, _Billie_.

Kate winks at me. My blood turns fiery in my veins.

"Why don't you hang onto Billie for a while. I'm thinking of upgrading anyway," she says, crawling across my lap to click a few links on the computer. A new page comes up in the browser.

"This one has Bluetooth and connects to your iPhone." She smiles sexily at me. I'm not even sure I understand the words coming out of her mouth, but they are titillating.

Kate leans in slightly to me.

"Want me to show you how to use him?" she asks.

I gulp.

_Yes._

Saved by the bell, once again, my _computer_ starts ringing. We both look over at it and some application has popped up called Skype. I literally have no idea what's happening, so I click "Answer."

A video chat with Christian opens up. He's sitting at his desk — _the_ desk — in a pale blue checked shirt and the tie from my dream. I feel something in me throb.

"Good evening, Miss Kavanagh, Miss Steele," he says, a little surprise coloring his voice.

I glance at the tiny rectangle in the corner of the screen showing what Christian sees. I'm sitting with my legs over the edge of the bed, twisted to face the computer screen and Kate is laying across my lap. Her breasts are front and center.

"Hello, Mr. Grey. I hope you were _good_ to our sweet little Miss Steele over the weekend," she purrs.

I panic. Kate and her fucking mouth!

"I believe she enjoyed herself," he smiles back at her. "Did you _enjoy _yourself, Miss Steele?"

They both look at me, clearly pleased with themselves. My face is hot and I stammer, "Um, yes, sir."

Christian leans forward towards the screen, his eyes darkening. _Oh, I like that look_, I think. Kate raises and eyebrow at me. "Sir?" she mouths.

"Good, I'm glad," he says, leaning back, lacing his hands in front of him. "Have you two been behaving yourselves?" My breath hitches.

"I was just loaning Ana a toy," Kate says, standing up and closing the Funbox. "I was going to show her how to use it next, but now that you're here, maybe you can act as teacher, Mr. Grey." She turns over her shoulder and winks at me. "I bet you could learn a few things from her, too."

I flap my mouth again, ineffectually.

"Laters!" she shouts as she leaves, closing the door behind her with a giggle.

"I think I'm starting to like this Miss Kavanagh," Christian says. Oh boy.


	11. Ch 11 - A Skype How-To

A quick note to eve_ryone: JUST in case this story gets taken down by FF for being too risqué, I have taken steps (with some much-appreciated help from StilettoMafia) to set up an alternate location to read the story. It's on AO3, which I hadn't ever been to before, but am starting to like more and more. The link is in my profile, but I thought I'd also post it here. I update both sites at the same time, so they should both be completely current._

_You can find the story here:_

_archiveofourown DOT_ _org/works/898338_

_Thanks again to everyone who offered suggestions and helped out!_

_And! This story JUST TODAY surpassed my other story, Less Than Lucky, for most views at almost 31,000! Woo._

* * *

**Chapter 11**

**A Skype How-To**

* * *

"So, Miss Steele, may I see this toy?"

I blush crimson and hold up Billie for him to see. A wicked smile spreads across his face.

"Alright Miss Steele, why don't you set that down on the bed for a moment. I don't think you've earned it yet."

I do as he says, surprised that I feel just a bit put out. I haven't _earned_ it yet?

"Do as I say and I will reward you. Disobey and you will be punished. Do you understand, Miss Steele?"

I nod. I don't really know what else to do.

"Stand up, I want to see you." I do as I'm told, turning the screen to face me. In the corner of the screen, I can see myself from about my ankles up. "Now, take off your shirt." Okay, I guess this is starting. I grab the hem of my tank top and yank it over my head. "Slowly," he says forcefully. I stop completely with my elbows above my head and my shirt completely covering my face. I hear him hum. Finally, I manage to get loose of the damn shirt and stand there in my shorts and bra.

"Good," he says, fire glowing in his eyes. "_Slowly_, take off your bra." I keep my eyes on the screen, determined to be sexy, and unclasp the front of my bra. I open it and let it slide down my arms far more gracefully than I could have managed with a back-closing bra.

"You have perfect breasts, Miss Steele. I wish I could bite them," he says quietly. My breath catches and I feel a rolling sensation in my groin. "Touch them for me."

I feel awkward and gangly as I paw at my own chest. "No, no, stop," he orders, leaning forward. "Close your eyes. Now imagine I'm standing behind you." I think of the immense heat his body gives off and instantly imagine my back is burning up. "I'm running my hand up your arm and across your collarbone." I use my left hand to run along my skin as he described. I do it softly, barely touching. Electricity crackles in my hand's wake.

"Good. Then I slide my hand over your breast from above, letting my fingers wrap around all sides of it, lifting it, squeezing gently." I can't describe it — even though I know it's my own hand, it's so erotic imagining him touching me, listening to his words, knowing he's watching me.

"Now I take your nipple in my fingers and pinch it hard, twisting it slightly." I follow suit and hear myself yelp in surprise and pleasure.

"With my free hand, I grab at your other breast from below, squeezing and lifting, pinching and caressing." Both of my hands are kneading my breasts and I am moaning low. I know Kate can hear me and I find that makes me even hornier. I don't even know if I'm surprised by that anymore.

"Push them together and lick them, Miss Steele," he says. I dip my head and open my mouth, panting as I let my tongue drag across the tops of my breasts and down the line of cleavage I've created. It feels divine.

"Look at me, Miss Steele." I open my eyes and the fantasy is broken. Christian isn't touching me.

But it's all replaced with another fantasy, the one that's playing out in reality right now. Christian is dominating me. We're having video sex and I feel a carnal desire for him. I'm wet and I rub my thighs together to get some sort of comfort, still kneading my breasts and staring into his eyes.

"You look incredible, Miss Steele." He's panting, too. _I_ am turning _him_ on. "But you are wearing entirely too many clothes. Take off your shorts."

Releasing my breasts, I slide my hands down my torso and grab the waistband my shorts, pulling at them. I turn around seductively, getting really into it now, and bend at the waist, pulling my shorts down over my ass until they're at a puddle on the floor and my ass is completely bared to him. I know he's had this view before, but now I'm _giving_ it to him without him asking. I hear his sudden intake of breath and turn around, standing up. I am completely naked and feeling incredibly hot.

"You weren't wearing any panties, Miss Steele," he whispers in mock shock. "I'm appalled."

I smile coyly at him and begin kneading my breasts again, truly enjoying it now for the power he holds over me, the pleasure I feel, and for the power I now know I have over him. I see his reaction and he is clearly turned on.

"Move the computer back and kneel on the bed."

I position myself and the computer so he can still see all of me, and kneel on the bed. I feel even more exposed now that I'm closer to the screen.

"Now spread your knees about shoulder width apart, Miss Steele." I comply. "I want you to show me how you pleasure yourself."

I hesitate. _How I pleasure myself? _Does he mean masturbate? Since I've never done that — except asleep on Sunday night, of course — I don't know what to do.

"But sir," I say quietly, sitting back on my heels. "I don't know how."

He closes his eyes for a long moment and takes a deep breath. "Ana, you haven't even," he stops himself. "Had you never had an orgasm before Saturday?" I shake my head no. He tilts his head back and runs both hands through his curly copper hair. Watching him do that makes me bite my lip. I want to run my hands through that hair.

He looks at me again, serious. "I'm going to teach you how to make yourself come, Ana," he says sternly. "You need to know this. I need you to know this so that one day, when you have a boyfriend who can't or won't give you what you need, I don't have to worry about you not being fulfilled."

One day when I have a boyfriend who's not _him_ he means. I guess the contract does have an end date. It should be expected that he is planning for a time I'm not his.

Hm, I guess I'm already thinking of myself as his. That's news.

I nod, too nervous to speak.

"Hold up your index finger, Miss Steele," he says, returning to his dom mode. "Good. Place it right in between your breasts, in the center of your body, pointing down." He holds his finger up and places it in the middle of his chest, to show me. "No, press harder. That's better. Now, move your finger down the center of your body slowly. Dip inside your belly button and... Stop. Why don't you lean back, Ana, against the headboard? I want to see you." I can tell he's talking about my vagina since he can see me clearly and I hesitate again. It's one thing for him to see it and another for it to be ten inches tall on his computer screen. "Now, Ana."

Finally, I adjust my position so I've got my knees in the air, but my head is still upright to see the computer screen.

"Spread your knees, Ana. I need to see." I do it, though slowly. I know it's wet down there and quite honestly I'm thoroughly embarrassed.

"Move me closer, right between your thighs." I do what he asks. "God, that's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," I hear him mutter. I don't know if I was supposed to hear that, but I feel my body tighten at his words.

I look in the lower corner of the screen and see my inner workings for the first time. It's bright pink and glistening. I haven't waxed yet, but I can see where that will help with the overall look. Now I am _completely_ committed to the waxing tomorrow. I don't care how much it hurts.

"Where were we," he asks, amused at my prone position. "Ah yes, your belly button. Dip your finger inside your belly button and keep going down. Good." His words have slowed and so has my finger. It feels naughty and so very good. My body is warming and I know I'm getting close to something.

"Now spread the flat of your palm out as you pass over your mons. Yes, Ana. You're doing wonderfully. How are you feeling?"

"Good, sir. Good."

He smiles briefly. "Ease off the pressure and slowly, lightly run the palm of your hand down over your vagina." Tingles and tremors pass over my entire body as I let my hand skim along my hair. Everything down there has a dewiness about it and it's so soft. I never knew it was so soft, like velvet. I remember my first blowjob and think how perfectly matched men and women's parts are.

"Now bring your hand back up, lightly." He's keeping very cool, but I see desire in his eyes. It's the same look he gave me in the elevator. "Good. How do you feel, Ana?"

All I can do is nod emphatically. He laughs quietly.

"Alright. Now do that again, but this time press with your hand a little. Tell me how it feels."

I follow instructions and involuntarily buck my hips slightly, pushing my hand hard against my opening. I nearly scream. "I feel so close, Mr. Grey. So close."

He nods slowly at me. "Do you remember that finger, Ana? Instead of rubbing your palm back up, I want you to slowly drag your finger up."

My finger dips gently into my folds and I shiver, moaning loudly. I don't want to keep going, but I do at the same time. I try not to think about it too hard. When I reach the front of my vagina, there's a rough patch that press my finger against. "Sir," I gasp.

He lowers his eyelids slightly. At once he's both terrifying and delectable. Either way, he's simply sinful to look at. "Keep going, Ana."

Almost grumpily, I let my finger continue its journey north and am surprised to find it keeps getting better. There's a magnetism pulling my finger towards something. When I reach it, I moan, moving my hips forward, my ass nearly on the keyboard. "Christian!"

"Miss Steele, I do hope you're enjoying yourself," he says smugly.

I let my finger skim around my clit in a lazy circle, relaxing and tensing. I can hardly control the movements of my body as my back arches and my free arm reaches out for anything to grab onto for stability. I get a good hold on one of the rails of the headboard and clutch tightly. "I think I'm going to come, Mr. Grey," I nearly shout.

"I'm so glad, Miss Steele. Now stop."

_Stop?!_

I whine, but I do as he says.

I'm lying on my bed (and my new laptop), completely exposed to this man over the internet, panting and heaving, and completely sweaty. Now that my entire focus isn't on the tiny spot between my knees, I become very aware of my breasts tingling and my ass heating up and all the muscles between my knees and my shoulders flexing.

"You are a very good sub, Ana. You have pleased me." I can't bring myself to smile. I just continue to pout.

"I think you deserve a reward," he says with a grin. "Why don't you pick up Miss Kavanagh's little friend?"

I blush crimson but quickly grab the little pink vibrator sitting on my quilt.

"Press that plus button on the back once. Yes. Now, Miss Steele, this will be very intense and you will want to come very quickly. I want you to hold off until I say. Is that clear?"

I nod slowly, still breathless.

"Good, now press little Katie between your breasts." _Little Katie?!_ I wonder if he knows that Kate and I have been flirting. I don't want to think about it too hard right now. I press the gently vibrating toy between my breasts and feel it all the way up and down my spine. I can feel it in my ass and in my head, in my breasts and in my clit. "This is the lowest setting, but I think that will be sufficient. How do you feel, Miss Steele?"

I can't form words anymore. I just groan in pleasure.

"Excellent. Now, just as before, move down slowly towards your belly button."

I close my eyes for a moment and imagine Christian's hands on me. My head flies back and I'm almost overcome by an orgasm, but I lighten the pressure from the toy and take a slow, deliberate breath. I begin again, dipping into my belly button and feeling the vibrations everywhere.

"With a lighter pressure, Miss Steele, keep going until you're positioned just over your clit."

Slowly and ever so lightly I reach my center, which is swollen and sensitive beyond belief. I am basically hovering over it but can feel every movement so intensely that I feel like I may never breathe normally again.

"Press down with the toy, Miss Steele."

I do. Colors flash before my eyes. I'm definitely about to come.

"Wait, Miss Steele, not yet."

My mind starts racing to distract myself, but it can't seem to get a grip onto anything to help. I'm going to come whether he likes it or not.

Finally, he leans forward and says, "Alright, Miss Steele, you can let Katie make you come now."


	12. Ch 12 - Smooth Moves

_Author's Note: Things are getting SER-I-OUS. Serious. Don't hate._

_Thanks again for reading and feel free to drop me a line with an idea or a suggestion or whatever! Thoughts are welcome._

* * *

**Chapter 12**

**Smooth Moves**

* * *

At 10am on the dot, there's a soft knock on my door before Kate starts pushing it open slowly. I'm not fully awake yet, my cybersex session with Christian went fairly late and I realize the laptop is still open on my bed and I guess I fell asleep without getting under the covers.

And without putting on pajamas.

"Uh, just, uh, give me a second, Kate!" I sputter, desperately trying to cover myself up before she walks in. I find a giant t-shirt on the floor and toss it on. When I look up, Kate is standing in the doorway with a huge grin on her face. Something tells me she got a peek before I got the shirt the whole way on.

"Anastasia," she scolds me playfully. "I hope you enjoyed your lesson last night." She sidles over to me with the hot wax already heated up. She lays a towel on my bed and closes my laptop. "Did Mr. Grey give you any homework?"

"Damn you, Katherine Kavanagh, you are enjoying this way too much," I say, blush rushing to my cheeks.

She laughs, throwing her head back. Her strawberry blonde curls bounce slightly, as do her breasts. She's still in her 30 Seconds to Mars t-shirt, which usually does very little for her figure, but her breasts this morning are like peaks, straining against the fabric. I can nearly make out the little pink tips...

"Alright, Steele. On the bed. Spread 'em." Her demeanor changes drastically and she reminds me so much of Christian that I immediately feel myself moisten.

"May I pee first?" I ask.

She rolls her eyes dramatically. "I suppose. Just don't chicken out on me, okay?"

I rush out of the room and down the hall to our tiny bathroom. "Get it together, Steele, she's your roommate!" I mutter, splashing a bit of water on my face before heading back.

When I come back in, Kate is standing in front of my bed with the wax on the floor by her feet. "Okay, sit," she says, pointing directly in front of her.

I do, and realize that this is really happening. I'm about to show Kate my whole naked crotch. Yep, this isn't awkward at all.

"Now, Ana, relax," she says, her voice softening. She puts her hands on my shoulders. "It's just like Sunday when I did your legs, okay. It's just," she hesitates for a moment. "More of the same."

I smile weakly in reply. I try to stare straight ahead, but her breasts are right there, distracting me. I look back up at her face.

"Now, uh," she stammers. That's weird. Kate _doesn't_ stammer. I've never heard her stammer. "Just, um, lie back." I hesitate, but she pushes my shoulders back until she's practically pinning me to the bed. She looks at me a long moment before standing back up. My breathing gets heavier and I can feel my heart beating in my chest. Surely she can hear it.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before, you know." It sounds like she's trying to convince herself. She licks her lips nervously and I feel my pulse quicken.

She seems to gather herself for a moment and kneels in front of me, about eye-level with my crotch. I actively decide not to watch. I stare at the ceiling then decide I need a pillow to scream into. The anticipation is killing me. Both of my inevitable arousal and the pain I know to expect. I reach out an arm and grab my fluffiest pillow and squeeze it to my face.

"Here, you have to spread your legs, Ana. Put your feet up here and scooch down."

I do as she says. Just the same as I did last night with Christian on the computer. I feel myself tighten and hear some sort of a muffled noise from Kate that I am simply too anxious to interpret right now.

"I'm going to, uh, put some talcum powder on first, so don't freak out." I murmur into my pillow by way of a response. I feel Kate moving around below me but nothing more.

"This is going to be warm," she starts, but immediately stops. "Nope, it needs to be hotter. Hold on." She stands up and runs out of the room. I hear the microwave going and my apprehension just grows and grows. I feel utterly exposed but can't make myself change position. I know I'll just have to get into this awkward spot again in a minute.

Finally the microwave beeps and she comes back into the room, closing the door behind her. "You need to relax, Ana. Zone out," she mumbles, and I can hear my own anxiety level mirrored in her voice. She opens my laptop next to me on the bed and fires up iTunes. "I think we need some dance music," she says and blasts "Stronger" by Kelly Clarkson. I can't help but laugh.

"Okay, this is going to be hot. I'm going to work in little sections." She kneels in front of me again and I can feel her skin hovering inches from my core. I feel the now-familiar sensation of the hot wax spreading along the edge of my hairline. It's not that bad. It's actually pretty sensual. She spreads the wax slowly and deliberately. She stops for a moment. I'm nearly vibrating with desire right now. For what, I'm not sure, but I definitely feel my lips quiver once or twice. I wonder if Kate can tell. After watching myself come last night, I have a better sense of what all that looks like to an outside observer. I don't have confidence in my ability to hide my arousal suddenly.

All of a sudden I feel Kate's cool breath on my skin as she blows where she just spread the wax. I nearly come on the spot. I moan into the pillow but manage to keep my hips from bucking. _Thank god!_

Kate smoothes the fabric strip on the wax and presses two fingertips into the sensitive skin just above my hair. "You ready, Steele?" she breathes. Before I can respond, she rips the strip back and I scream gutturally into the pillow. "Sorry, Ana," she says quietly, before continuing.

Six strips later, I'm panting. I can barely hold myself together. The wax is turning me on and all, but the thing that nearly puts me over the edge each time is Kate blowing on my skin. And, despite myself, I'm having a hard time controlling myself when the pain hits. I've been counting out loud, though I hope Kate can't tell and just hears generic yelling.

She starts moving down to either side of my opening, where the skin is most sensitive. She smooths the wax all over now, then blows gently side to side. I can't help myself this time and my hips move of their own accord. I know I'm blushing crimson everywhere.

I pull the pillow from my face long enough to mutter a pathetic "Sorry!"

Kate laughs gently. "Seriously, Ana, don't apologize. I'm glad you're enjoying this," she purrs. "You look incredibly hot right now, you know." She smooths the fabric again. I've stopped breathing entirely. Is she seriously flirting with me when her fingers are right _there_?

She rips the final two strips and blows on the skin gently to sooth the pain. "Time for the lotion, Steele," she says. I can hear her rubbing her palms together and I tense again.

"You must be an incredible sight when you come, Ana," she whispers, massaging the lotion onto my mons slowly.

I pull the pillow from my face and sit up just enough so I can see her. We lock eyes. "Kate," I say, but I have no other words.

Her fingers rub in circles over my skin, sliding easily along its hypersensitive surface, slowly working her way down towards my folds.

"I wonder if I can make you come, Ana," she whispers back, still holding my gaze. It almost seems like a question, like she's asking permission. I can't think straight. I can barely see straight. I don't really know what's happening, but I am so incredibly turned on right now I just stare at her.

Still looking directly into my eyes, her fingers run down either side of my vagina achingly slowly. I throw my head onto the bed as another long sigh escapes my lips.

I feel her second hand join her first, running her fingertips just below my bellybutton like she did Sunday night. I shudder involuntarily as her fingers circle back around my hood, never touching the vital spots. She's carefully avoiding them I think.

"Did Christian touch you like this?" she says breathily. I nod and moan quietly. "Did he do this?" She blows gently on my clit and I feel myself tensing, drawing close to my orgasm. I shake my head no. "No? Has he licked you yet, Ana?" she asks. I'm nearly there and then I feel her hot breath just above my core. It feels even hotter than the wax.

She just touches the very tip of her tongue to my clit and I explode, convulsing and writhing from pleasure.

Finally, I come down off my high and am terrified of sitting up, facing the reality of what just happened.

_Am I a lesbian?_ I ask myself, but dismiss the idea almost immediately. I enjoyed fucking Christian entirely too much for that to be a possibility. _Shit, Christian_. I just cheated on him. Didn't I?

I hear Kate laughing lightly and sit up out of sheer curiosity.

"You are a sight to behold, Steele," she giggles. She stands and eyes my crotch, making me shift uncomfortably. "Pretty good job, if I do say so myself."

She's back to her old, non-flirting-with-Ana self. Did I just imagine that whole thing? Nope, I'm still spasming down there from the aftershocks of my orgasm. _Kate's_ orgasm. She _gave_ it to me.

I manage to find something vaguely resembling my voice. "Should we, uh, talk about what just happened?" I squeak.

Completely nonchalant, Kate begins to gather the waxing supplies. "Hey, Ana, don't be embarrassed." _Embarrassed?_ "Some girls are just really sensitive. I won't tell anyone that you're so easily excitable. It happens to the best of us. When we were on vacation in Santa Barbara a couple years ago, I came while riding a tandem bike with my brother." She laughs and does the heeby-jeeby dance. Is she pretending she wasn't an active participant in what just happened? "What can I say? It was a cobblestone street. Hey, tell Christian 'you're welcome' from me when you see him tonight, okay?" she says casually as she leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

I flop back on the bed, exasperated. _What the fuck just happened?_

I touch my skin down there. It is incredibly sensitive, that's true. But it's also so freaking smooth! I get up and walk to the mirror, holding the hem of my t-shirt up to see.

Yep, that's pretty hot. "You're welcome, Christian" indeed.


	13. Ch 13 - Signature Dish

_Author's Note: Okay, I know this is a long chapter, but a LOT of stuff goes down and I had to figure out how to deal with this major transition in their relationship and smooth the way for several steps down the road. Next chapter we will be returning to full-on smut._

* * *

**Chapter 13**

**Signature Dish**

* * *

Not gonna lie, I avoid Kate the rest of the day. It's not super hard to do, though. I think she may be avoiding me, too.

I'm still grappling with what happened this morning. I don't know what it means for me, what it means for us, or, quite frankly, what it means for me and Christian Grey.

My mind keeps coming back to that one line in the contract:

_The Submissive will not enter into any sexual relations with anyone other than the Dominant._

Shit. Strictly speaking, I haven't broken any rules at all yet because I haven't signed the contract. But really, I think that's just a technicality at this point. We both know I'm going to sign tonight at dinner.

I hope.

Kate picked out my dress and shoes for the evening on Monday. The dress is a plum-colored silk number with a deep scoop back. It's fairly short and hugs my curves closely. I definitely won't be able to wear a bra with it.

I spend about twenty minutes after my shower blow drying my hair, which is something I never do, then applying eyeliner, mascara, blush, shadow — the whole nine yards — before getting dressed.

Now comes the big decision: panties.

I take off my bathrobe and stand staring into the black hole that is my underwear drawer. Pretty much the only pair of acceptable sexy underwear I had were the ones Christian destroyed on our first date. I'm going to have to remedy that situation soon. But there's no time tonight. I check my alarm clock. It's already 6pm. I need to get a move on or I'll be late. Something tells me Christian Grey does not take kindly to tardiness.

I slip my feet into Kate's nude "fuck me" pumps while I debate. Most everything is cotton and old. A few pairs of hipsters, some boy shorts, a couple of thongs, and more granny panties than I care to admit (What? They're comfortable!). There's one possibility, but I'm quite sure they would give me VPL – visible panty lines – which simply won't do.

I walk back over to the dress and catch a glimpse of myself in my full-length mirror. _Damn_. I look pretty hot in nothing but Kate's platform stilettos, especially now that I'm slick as a whistle. Turning slightly, I consider my rear end. The heels make me flex some special hotness muscles in my legs and my ass looks good. Better than good. It looks great. I look great.

A smile spreads across my lips. Skipping the panties would certainly make things move slightly quicker.

I wind up having to drive Wanda, my old beat-up Beetle, barefoot. It's impossible to drive stick shift with 4 1/2" heels. That's for damn sure.

When I arrive at the Heathman, a full fifteen minutes early I'd like to point out, I hand off my keys to the valet guy. I think he might have been in my discussion group for Chemistry freshman year. I smile briefly at him and slip on my shoes before heading inside. I feel his eyes on my ass and my confidence soars.

Christian Grey is propped up against the bar looking delectable. He's in a black linen suit, white linen shirt, and a black tie. I feel a wetness between my thighs and suddenly wonder if going commando was such a good idea. I might wind up just soiling this dress.

When he sees me at the entrance to the bar, I watch his eyes drift slowly down to my shoes then back up to my face, his smile growing all along. I shift slightly, trying to be sexy, but honestly, the slipperiness on the insides of my thighs is so distracting. I start to worry that something will start dripping down my leg as I walk over to him as gracefully as I can. Thankfully he meets me halfway, wrapping a hand around my waist and kissing me lightly on the cheek. I nearly melt.

"Miss Steele, you look incredible," he murmurs in my ear before taking me by the elbow and leading me up a set of stairs. "I booked us a private dining room," he says, as a young man opens a door for us.

It's clearly intended to be a party venue — there's room in here for probably twenty people to eat dinner comfortably, but there's only one small table in the room. The walls are dark wood and there's three beautiful antique mirrors hung high enough on the walls that you can see yourself when standing but not while seated. Christian releases me momentarily and pulls out my chair. I smile demurely at him and smooth my dress under me as I sit. He drapes my napkin over my lap, lightly grazing the top of my thigh with his fingers.

Yep, this dress is going to get ruined.

He takes his seat opposite me and puts his napkin in his lap before beckoning the young man over. "What would you like to drink, Anastasia?" he asks.

"I'll have whatever you're having." I'm really trying my best to be a well-behaved sub. Maybe I'm just trying to act sweet before I drop the news that I've been fooling around with Kate. Is that what I should call it?

He eyes me for a moment, a sexy smolder that makes me shift in my seat slightly.

"Two glasses of Sancerre, please," he says, not looking at the waiter. "Anastasia, do you know what you'd like to eat?" he says, motioning for the waiter to stay.

I smile slightly. "I'll have what you're having, sir."

Christian narrows his eyes and nearly growls. He speaks softly to the waiter, murmuring some complicated order I can't quite hear. The waiter turns and walks out. Just as he reaches the doorway, Christian says, "Oh, and please close the door." I hear a soft click behind me and know we're completely alone.

"So," he says, leaning forward on his elbows. "The contract."

There's a soft knock at the door. "Come," Christian commands, and the waiter comes hurrying back in with our wine. I take a sip and it's delicious — crisp and light. Just what I was looking for. I have to seriously watch myself that I don't overdo it on the drinking, though.

I hear the soft click of the door closing and lean forward onto my elbows as well. "Yes, the contract."

Christian smiles slowly at me then sits up. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out two copies of the contract, handing them both to me. He then produces a beautiful fountain pen.

"Please, look over it again, but I do so hope you'll sign before the appetizers arrive." He looks serious, all hints of his smile disappeared.

I've read this, the updated contract, three times since he sent it to me. I've practically memorized it. There's only one sentence that poses any problem at all. I guess I have to tell him. It's now or never.

I put the pen down on top of the two copies of the contract and sit up straight. I take a large gulp of wine.

"Mr. Grey, there's something I'd like to discuss with you regarding the 'Personal Qualities' clause in Appendix 1."

He looks a bit perplexed. "Personal Qualities?"

"Yes, it says, 'The Submissive will not enter into any sexual relations with anyone other than the Dominant. The Submissive will conduct herself in a respectful and modest manner at all times. She must recognize that her behavior is a direct reflection on the Dominant. She shall be held accountable for any misdeeds, wrongdoings, and misbehavior committed when not in the presence of the Dominant.'" Yeah, I guess I do have it memorized.

He smiles at me again. "Alright, Miss Steele. I have to say, I'm impressed by your capacity for memorization. I will have to keep that in mind moving forward. Now what exactly is it you take issue with? Is it the modesty thing, because that's not really that uncommon. I don't want other men ogling you while I'm not there and..."

I cut him off. I know it's disrespectful, but I don't know that I'll be able to spit it out if I don't do it right now.

"Kate Kavanagh made me come today," I nearly shout.

Christian can only be described as stunned right now. His jaw is slightly agape, a blank look on his face.

"Mr. Grey?" I say. I can feel the flush in my face. Words cannot describe how embarrassed I feel right now. I need him to react in some way so I can move on to any other emotion — anger, resentment, relief — anything! I can't take the embarrassment any longer.

"You do not cease to surprise, Miss Steele." His eyebrows raise and there's a fiery look in his eyes. Is he mad? Is he turned on? I really truly cannot tell. I'm starting to think that maybe it's both. "I didn't realize you were bisexual."

"I'm not! I mean, I don't _think_ I am. Or I didn't think I was. Or..."

"Hm," he says. "Do you like oysters, Anastasia?"

Oysters?

There's a soft knock at the door and our waiter comes floating in, carrying a large silver tray loaded with ice and oysters. He sets it in front of us, then leaves nearly silently.

I sputter, trying to find my voice. "I've never had one."

"Have you ever tasted a woman's vagina?"

I blush crimson and simply shake my head. I can't even look at him right now.

"It tastes just like that." He reaches out and grabs one, lifting it to his lips. I stare. He tips it back and swallows it whole. "Mm, yes. Except _you_, Miss Steele, taste slightly sweeter." He smiles. "Just let it slide down your throat and then swallow. As I recall, you have no problem with that." I blush even further — he's definitely talking about my deep-throating abilities.

I bite my lip and shakily grab the oyster closest to me. "Put some lemon juice on it," he advises. I do as he instructs. "Now lift it to your lips and tip your head back." I feel a tickle as it slides over my tongue and down my throat. It tastes incredible and musky. My mind goes back to what he said about a woman's vagina. If it tastes like that...

"Well?"

"I like it," I say, reaching for another.

His eyes narrow further and part of me is a little scared. I try to ignore it and have another oyster and a long sip of wine. Christian refills my glass.

"Were you in a relationship with Miss Kavanagh before you met me?"

"No, I'm not in a relationship with Kate. We're just friends."

"But she made you come?"

I hesitate. "Yes."

"Please, Miss Steele, enlighten me." He is pissed. I knew it. The ire in his voice is rising. He downs another oyster before continuing. "How did she make you come?"

I shift slightly in my seat, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. I take another sip of wine. "Well, I was going to surprise you later," I murmur.

"Tell me now." Okay, he may be mad, but he _does_ seem surprised.

I check the door briefly to make sure no one is coming. I stand up and walk over to Christian. He looks horrendously confused. I force myself to look in his eyes while I lift the hem of my borrowed dress.

I watch his eyes open widely in wonder and see his sharp intake of breath. A deep rumble sounds through his chest and he runs his hand up the inside of my thigh.

"Oh, Miss Steele, you do enjoy making me jealous, don't you?" he mutters, letting his fingers linger around my opening, smooth and sensitive. "Did she touch you like this?"

_Oh god!_ Are we really going to do this with me standing in front of him with my skirt hitched up around my hips?

Still, I nod silently.

"Tell me what she did, Ana."

_Ana!_

My body reacts to the sound of my name on his lips. "She, uh, she waxed me."

"I can see that, Miss Steele. Did you enjoy it?"

I gulp. "Yes, I did."

"Did it hurt?" His finger probes my folds and I feel unsteady on my feet.

"Yes, sir."

"But you enjoyed it." It's not a question. I nod anyway. "Good. She did an excellent job. I'll have to compliment her on her handiwork later." He lets a finger slide into me slowly. "Did you come while she was waxing you?"

"No, sir." I can hardly breathe. I grab onto the back of Christian's chair with one hand and the edge of the table with the other. "She, she..."

He adds another finger into me and I moan slightly. "What did she do, Anastasia?"

"Lotion," I can only get the one word out.

"So she rubbed you with her hands," he breathes. "With her fingers." He drives his fingers into me over and over again. I feel myself getting painfully close. "Did she fuck you with her fingers?"

I shake my head no. No, she did not.

"Good. This," he pulls me to him with those fingers. "This," he nearly takes his fingers out then roughly pumps back in. "_This_ _is_ _mine._" He adds another finger and pounds into me once more. Full, I feel myself teetering at the edge of a massive orgasm. He stills completely. "Do you understand?"

I nod.

"Good." He takes his hand away and smoothes my skirt back down. "Now go sit down." He gives me a solid smack on the ass when I turn towards my seat.

I hobble over and gingerly set my tender self into my seat. Just then there's a knock at the door and our waiter comes rushing in, taking the oysters away and setting plates of roast duck in front of us. My breath is ragged as I watch Christian lick his fingers — right in front of the waiter!

"Mm, yes, definitely sweeter," he says with a satisfied grin. I'm sure I'm ten shades of scarlet. "Don't disturb us again," he calls quietly.

"Of course, Mr. Grey," the waiter says.

The door clicks and we're alone once more.

Christian leans forward again, serious. "I hope you understand that I am not pleased." He starts in on his duck, not looking up at me. This is the first time he's avoided eye contact with me. "So did you want to discuss this because you broke that rule or for some other reason?"

I take a long draught of my wine. "I'm worried I'll do it again." My voice is barely more than a whisper.

He doesn't look up. "With Kate?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you want to?"

I take another sip of my wine. I can feel the effects of it already. "I don't know."

He stops, his fork an inch from his mouth, and looks up finally. "You don't have to sign this contract, Ana. You can walk away now, no harm done."

"I _want_ to sign," I blurt out spontaneously, not thinking. Then I realize it's true. I _do_ want to sign. I want to be his submissive. God, I don't think I've ever wanted anything more.

"But?" He sounds like a lost boy again for a moment and I remember the fear in his voice the first time we fucked. It terrifies me.

"But I think I also want to," I stop and take another huge gulp of wine. I pour myself more. I take another long sip then the words just flow out of me like projectile word vomit. "Something's happening with me and Kate. I don't understand it and I don't know what it is, but I know that I like it and it scares me and it's hot and," I stop again and meet his eyes. "Do you remember the dream I told you about?"

His eyes widen.

"I was tied to the chair, and you cut your underwear off me and then I was naked." Oh shit, he looks furious. "You promised you wouldn't get mad."

"When did I say that?"

"I said I'd tell you about the dream if you promised not to get mad. I'm telling you about the dream. So," I realize my logic is flawed too late.

"I will try not to get mad. It was a dream. You cannot control that." He takes a deep breath and another sip of wine, refilling his own glass now.

"Well, you were trying to figure out how to punish me and then Kate was there and then you," I hesitate. I take another drink. "You started fooling around with Kate then she," another drink. "She fucked me while you fucked her and we all came together." Damn this wine is good. "It was amazing and I am not going to apologize for it."

I look at Christian but his glare is unreadable.

"Give me the contracts, Ana," he murmurs throatily. _Shit_.

I hand them to him.

"And the pen," he holds out his hand. I hesitate a moment before giving it to him.

This is it, this is the end. I will never see this man again. I've fucked it all up. I stare at my hands, unsure of what to do next.

"Here," he says.

I look up and he's handing them back to me. The two copies and his pen.

"You're going to read it, you're going to sign it, then I'm going to take you upstairs and fuck your brains out." The tears that have been threatening for the last five minutes burn in my eyes.

I flip through the pages then I find it. Right there, under "Personal Qualities", he's crossed out the first sentence and in neat black letters he's written:

The Submissive will not enter into any sexual relations with anyone other than the Dominant. The Submissive must have explicit approval before engaging in sexual relations with anyone other than the Dominant.

I beam back at him and sign my name on the dotted line.

"I thought I told you not to bite your lip, Miss Steele," Christian says with a wicked sneer.


	14. Ch 14 - For Your First Challenge

_Author's Note: On my profile, I've put a link to a photo of the dress I keep imagining Ana wearing (or not wearing as the case may be) in this and the last chapter. This is a pretty fucking hot chapter if I do say so myself and it's really fun to see how Christian pushes Ana when he was rough with her from their first copulatory act. Plus, now, she's signed. He can do anything he wants._

_I am really enjoying writing this right now. I think you can tell from the fact that this is my third chapter I've posted in the last 48 hours. Do you guys like it this way or would you prefer I hold on to chapters I've written and then post more regularly (eg, three at once and then nothing for a bit possibly or once a week for three weeks)?_

_As always, thanks for the great reviews, favorites, and follows.  
We officially have over 100 reviews, over 100 favorites, over 275 follows, and by the end of the evening, more than 42,000 views! That's ridiculous!  
I'm so happy and would love to hear if anyone has any ideas or things they'd like to see happen. Give me your brain-thoughts.  
Mm, brains._

* * *

**Ch 14**

**For Your First Challenge**

* * *

My eyes shoot up to his. I had no idea I was biting my lip. I guess I just do it unconsciously.

Christian stands up from his seat, dropping his napkin on the table and walks slowly toward me. He positions himself directly behind my chair. I can feel my pulse quickening at our proximity. He leans over me, his cheek almost touching mine, and takes the pen from my hand. He signs his name on the line below my signature on both copies.

Christian Grey.

He tosses the pen on top of the documents and leans both hands on the edge of the table. His hot breath against my ear sends shivers down my spine.

"You're all mine now, Miss Steele," he growls softly then bites my earlobe. Hard. I gasp at the pain and the pleasure of it.

He bites into my neck and down to my shoulder, leaving behind a trail of fire. I moan softly and lean my head away, giving him purchase.

"Miss Steele, I don't suppose you've ever been restrained during sex before, hm?" I think he knows the answer to that one.

In a moment, he's wrapped my hair around his wrist and has pulled it back almost painfully. "Answer me," he seethes. I can see a complete change in his demeanor. He's serious. He's Dom Christian.

"No, I haven't, sir."

He relaxes his grip and smoothes my hair down my back gently.

"Stand up."

I stand up and place my napkin on the table.

He hands me a room keycard. "Suite 1001. I want you sitting on the leather couch in ten minutes." And like that he leaves the room.

I'm left standing panting and dripping wet alone in the dining room. Before I even have time to panic, our waiter returns with a note for me. He busies himself cleaning up the table while I open it. It only has one line of text in Christian's neat hand:

Wear only the shoes.

It's all I can do to keep from moaning out loud. I check my watch quickly. I'm guessing I only have about eight minutes left. Quick as I can in these heels, I scurry out of the room.

Christian is nowhere to be found, but that's not really surprising. What _is_ surprising is that I feel his eyes on me. Somewhere. He's somewhere. I don't have time to focus on that. I carefully descend the stairs back into the main bar area and head for the lobby.

Once I'm back on the marble floor, I have to watch my step more carefully. The upstairs and the bar are both old hard wood so I didn't have to worry as much about slipping. I'm worried I'm going to lose my footing and break a bone in these heels. I finally reach the elevators and press the "up" button, checking my watch. I have just five minutes. Shit.

The elevator is not nearly as fast as I'd like it to be. This will give me no prep time once I'm in the suite. Finally, _finally_, the doors open on the tenth floor. I see Suite 1001 at the end of the hall and practically run to it. Two minutes. I _of course_ fumble with the keycard but finally manage to get the door open.

Thankfully I've been in this suite before. Otherwise, I'd be losing time ogling at the size of it. Hell, I didn't realize it had a second bathroom when I was here last time! Jeez.

I disrobe as I walk, peeling my dress off and folding it neatly before leaving it on a chair in the corner. If our phone sex session the other night was any indication, Christian does not take kindly to clothes being strewn about. After taking off my necklace and putting it on the desk, I seat myself on the leather couch and check my watch. Less than a minute left. I cross my legs and and put my hands on my knees.

The couch faces the bed, so the door is behind me. Now I get to play the waiting game.

I suck at the waiting game.

I check my watch again. It's only been a couple minutes.

I put my hand back on my knee and look straight forward. I'm sure this is how Christian wants me to sit. Eyes straight ahead, a demure look on my face, legs crossed.

Or maybe knees together?

I shift.

Maybe knees apart.

I shift again. Hm, I don't think I can sit with my crotch on display until he arrives. I try knees together again. I put my hands on my lap but decide it's too much like I'm trying to hide myself and put them back on my knees.

Looking straight ahead, I really don't have much to look at. Just the bed. It's a huge California King with a big corona of a sun for the headboard and restraining points on each of the corners.

Wait, restraining points? Those weren't there last time.

I hear the door open and my pulse quickens. I'd just caught my breath from hurrying up here and like that it's labored again. Even though the temptation to turn around and look at him is so great, I stay completely still and stare at the bed.

And the bedside table. Which has a vibrator on it. It's the same exact one as Kate gave me. Billie. Or, as Christian calls it, _Little Katie_.

There's that familiar tug deep down in my groin and I feel a wetness spreading on the leather. It feels sinful just sitting like this.

I hear Christian moving around, opening drawers, shifting things around. Then music. It's some classical piece that sounds familiar but I can't identify. It's mixed with a techno beat underneath. With the music blasting, I can't even hear him moving around anymore. It's driving me crazy this anticipation. I shift slightly in my seat, sitting up a little straighter so the firm edge of the couch touches me just so.

"Ah, Miss Steele, remember the rule about self-pleasure?" His voice sounds right behind me and I nearly jump. I blush and scooch back on the couch slightly.

He appears in front of me wearing a pair of worn-in jeans with the top button open. He's shirtless and shoeless and I feel everything in me tighten at the sight.

"Although I am disappointed you did not follow my instructions fully, Miss Steele, you pleased me by getting here on time."

My eyes dart up to his questioningly. What didn't I do correctly? I'm sitting on the couch, I conducted myself in a modest manner on my way up, I was here on time...

"You're wearing a watch, Miss Steele."

Shit. He's right. He said only the shoes. I drop my gaze and chastise myself. I was trying so hard, too. It takes all I have to not immediately apologize, but I know I shouldn't speak.

"Give me your wrist," he commands.

I oblige, holding out my left hand so he can remove the offending watch. _Stupid, stupid, stupid Ana. _Deftly, his fingers turn my hand so my palm faces up then unbuckles my watch strap, letting his fingers linger on the inside of my wrist. It sends goosebumps up my arm.

Pulling me gently by the hand, he leads me to the desk in the corner, where he sets my watch down next to the keycard and my necklace. Then he leads me to the foot of the bed and has me sit on the edge.

"I know you tried, Anastasia. That pleases me."

I smile slightly, staring at my hands in his. His are so much bigger.

"Look at me, Ana."

I lift my eyes to his and feel that spark immediately. I let a small sigh escape my lips and I see a smile pulling the corners of his mouth.

"Do you remember your safe words?"

I nod slowly.

"You may speak."

"Yellow and red, sir."

"Very good. You'll tell me if it's too much?"

"Yes, Mr. Grey."

There's a quiet rumble in his chest. "Good." He drops my hand and stands back slightly. "Stand up and face the bed."

I do as I'm told and he takes my hand again. I look over but he grumbles incomprehensibly and I lower my eyes again. I feel a leather strap wrap around my wrist and tighten to near-painfulness. "Is that too tight, Miss Steele?"

"No, Mr. Grey."

"Good," he says as he moves to the other side. "Put your face down on the bed, Anastasia." The restraints are low, about hip height, and once I've laid my head on the bed, I can just stretch far enough for him to secure the other restraint. There's no moving from this position. I'm bent over further than I was when he spanked and fucked me the first time — my head is a few inches lower than my hips.

There's a long moment where nothing happens then he slides in behind me. I feel the heat of him against my legs and his hardness, rough in his jeans, against my ass. "You look edible, Miss Steele."

I whimper slightly. It's all I can do. My vagina is pulsating. He slides a hand between up and spreads my ass cheeks apart, examining me. I feel more naked than I ever have in my life right in this moment.

"Miss Kavanagh really did a phenomenal job, Miss Steele." I feel his fingers pulling and pulling me apart, I'm starting to worry I might split in two. The feeling is heady. "I am so looking forward to claiming your ass."

I can't help it, my knees buckle for a moment, but Christian hooks his fingers under my hips and pulls me back up almost immediately. "Careful you don't fall over, Miss Steele. We couldn't have that, now could we?" Slowly he starts stroking me along my ass now that I'm more stable. He presses his crotch into mine and a jagged moan escapes my lips.

"I am torn, Miss Steele." I feel a slight chill as he steps back from me, but almost immediately a hand is playing with my clit, his thumb sliding into my opening just barely and pressing down in a dizzying way. "On the one hand, I want to reward you. You are trying very hard to be an excellent sub, which pleases me. And you signed the contract, which pleases me immensely." His hand's movements quicken and I begin panting loudly.

"On the other hand," he says, pulling his hand away. I almost whine but manage to control myself. Barely. "You made me compromise greatly on this Katherine Kavanagh issue and should be punished."

_Smack smack smack smack! _In quick succession I feel the shock of four quick hard slaps on the ass. I muffle my screams, turning my face into the comforter of the bed.

His hands are back, the one soothing my ass, the other resuming its ministrations on my sex.

"I think I'll go ahead with my original plan and save your reprimand for later," he says finally and pulls both hands away. This time I can't rein in my whine before it escapes my lips, not even muffled by the bedspread. There's a soft chuckle from Christian.

"Now I know you've never received oral sex and that is really a crime. I want to know before we continue if you are ready for some anal play?"

I think for a moment, terrified. _Am I ready for this? What in god's name have I gotten myself into?_

"You may speak."

"Whatever sir wants." That's the closest thing to non-committal I could come up with. Maybe he'll take the hint that I'm not really ready.

"Good," he says, and I feel him spread my cheeks once again. He kneels down behind me and I hear him breathe in deeply, smelling me. I shift slightly on my feet, self-conscious.

"Anastasia," he says softly. I feel the soft, hot wetness of his tongue lick just next to my pussy and I moan. "This is a time," he says, licking the other side. "That I want you to be," he pauses to lick me very slowly right down the center, letting his tongue penetrate me just slightly. A long groan escapes me and my eyes roll back in my skull. Jesus, that feels incredible. "Very vocal."

His mouth closes around my clit and sucks gently, letting the flat of his tongue press gently against my core. I can't think, I can hardly stand, and the sounds I'm making are ridiculous. I sound like a dying horse.

He hums and my body convulses. I don't think I'm quite at an orgasm yet, but it's like I just had a mini one. I can barely catch my breath as his nose pushes against my opening and his tongue flicks my clit over and over again.

Instinctively, I arch my back slightly and start rocking my hips, riding his face. He swats my backside sharply with one hand and I stop. Still with his lips on me, he says, "You must stay still, Anastasia, or I will change my well-laid plans and punish you." The movement and his breath make me scream. Maybe it's gibberish, maybe it's swear words. I have no idea. "God, you are so responsive."

Slowly he runs the tip of his tongue from my mound, around my clit twice, up my vagina, dipping inside twice, and then keeps going. When he reaches the backside of my vagina, he nibbles gently on the little bit of flesh there between it and my ass.

"Holy shit!"

With it in his teeth, he laughs softly. _Fuck fuck fuck._ Why does that feel so good? He lets his fingers play with my clit as he repeats the process, starting low and working his way up, this time with little flicks of his tongue playfully along the way. His thumb enters me again, pressing forward on that rough spot I discovered during our cybersex session last night. He fucks me with his thumb and his tongue, one pushing at the front and the other pulling at the back. I feel full and empty at the same time, when another of those mini-orgasms washes over me. I'm pulling against my restraints, which seems to intensify everything. There's something glorious about handing over all the control to this man that I trust inherently.

"Sir, please," I moan. I am so close to a full release. I just need something. Him to speed up or slow down or...

He slides his mouth up further and licks my asshole, flicking it before plunging his tongue inside.

Everything becomes sensation as I orgasm over and over again, bucking and spasming wildly, pulling my restraints over and over again. I call his name loudly, "Mister Grey!"


	15. Ch 15 - Benefits of Submission

_Hello, faithful (or unfaithful as the case may be) readers!_

_I'm sorry it has taken me so long to update. I trust you've all been using this time between chapters to build your anticipation — think of it as foreplay. The good news is that I spent a lot of the last couple weeks story planning so I have a better sense of what's to come (and who's to come — harhar) next in this story. Expect more frequent updates for a while._

_This chapter is short, but hopefully it won't disappoint._

* * *

**Chapter 15**

**Benefits of Submission**

* * *

I've barely come down from my orgasm, the feel of his fingers on my sex and his tongue in my ass lingering, when I hear the rip of foil.

"Anastasia, I'm going to fuck you now," he says quietly, running his fingers over the cheek of my ass, up my spine, soothing me. "If it becomes too much, you will safeword."

"Yes, sir." I am spent and don't see how I could be any more tired. Another aftershock rips through my body, nearly making my knees buckle.

"Good girl."

He slams into me with a force that pushes my face hard into the mattress. My shoulders strain from the pressure of my splayed arms, and I cry out in shock.

He stills momentarily, then achingly slow, he pulls back. I feel the wonderful discomfort of his head straining against my opening, nearly pulling out completely. He lingers there for a long moment, eliciting a low moan from my chest before slamming back into me. Another cry, this time louder.

"Fuck, Miss Steele, you are so tight."

I'm hoping that's a good thing. It makes me feel depraved, trussed up, moaning, with him talking dirty to me as he fucks me. But I think it's depraved in a good way. My sex is overripe, hypersensitive, and every movement of skin against skin is both uncomfortable and completely arousing at once. The fabric of his jeans chafes against my thighs, rubbing me raw.

His hands hold my hips roughly as he pumps in and out at his slow-fast slow-fast rhythm. I can't help but moan gutturally the whole time. He continues his unrelenting assault until I can feel myself building again.

"Good, Ana. Tell me how it feels."

I'm supposed to form words now? "Fuck," is all I can eek out.

He laughs gently. "Please be more descriptive," he says, slowing down.

"Oh god, Mr. Grey... I feel," I search for a word as he eases himself into me. The slowness is maybe worse than the pounding. Or better? Are they the same thing? "Full. Stretched. Just don't stop." I gasp at another hard thrust. "Don't stop, please."

"Are you enjoying being my sub?"

"Yes, sir."

"Tell me when this becomes too much."

_When_ this becomes too much?

Christian's grip tightens on my hip as he takes one hand away. That's when I hear a soft buzzing. _Shit, Little Katie!_

"Oh fuck."

He slows his tempo again, easing in and out of me. It leaves me with an aching need for more. And boy, do I get more.

Christian presses the vibrator into the soft flesh on the inside of my right thigh and ever so slowly inches it upwards. I pull lamely against my restraints again. It just makes my shoulders hurt and my breasts jiggle.

"I'm going to start on the lowest speed, but I'm going to increase it slowly." I grunt as he slides into me again. "If you say 'yellow', I will stop with the vibrator entirely. 'Red' and I will stop completely and untie you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, unh..." I grunt again as he slams into me hard this time. "Yes, Mr. Grey."

"Good. Now, if you say 'green', I won't change the settings and will continue what I'm doing and bring us both to climax." He draws out of me at a glacial pace. "Do you understand, Anastasia?"

I nod, letting out a soft moan. "I do, sir."

This time, when his dick creeps in, he presses the vibrator firmly into my clit, giving me another of those mini-orgasms. I scream at the top of my lungs as a spasm rolls through my groin.

He presses the vibrator into me in rhythm with his thrusts, which become more forceful as the speed of the vibrator increases. I hear myself begging — for what, I'm not sure — without being aware of actually doing it.

Finally the rush of blood in my ears is all I can hear. Christian is pounding me at an unrelenting pace, as fast as my heartbeat, and the vibrator makes me tremble, my clit is so swollen. I can't stand anymore. I think I'm going to die. Yep, death by pleasure. Or maybe pain. Nope, definitely pleasure.

"Stop, please," I pant. I don't think I can deal with these sensations anymore. I need a minute — to drink some water, to breathe, to think.

The vibe picks up speed again and he curves it down slightly, changing the angle. I can feel the vibrations in my bones. I try to scream, but all that comes out is a hoarse sigh.

"Ana, if you really want me to stop, you have to use your safewords."

Safewords? I can barely remember my own name, let alone the safewords!

All the while, Christian's thrusts are coming quicker and harder I feel like I'm going to split in two. I feel him hitting the end of my sex and it's painful in a way that I find satisfying and scary as hell. His fingers dig into my flesh, holding me upright, and the vibrator keeps picking up speed. I wonder briefly if there's an upper limit on this thing.

I find my voice and my words, screaming, "Green!"

He growls behind me and pounds into me again and again. Everything about his touch is magic. "Good, Ana. Just give yourself over to sensation. Don't overthink it," he grumbles, hammering into me with force.

I need something to hold on to, but I can't grab anything my hands are completely useless to me right now. For want of a better option, I bite hard into the coverlet and scream for all I'm worth.

He changes angles again and my vision goes blurry. His entire length is vibrating slightly in rhythm with the toy. With that small shift, I come, screaming, as his dick swells slightly. He pumps into me hard three times, spaced out, straining me open.

My muscles are still flexing in a crazy pattern when he pulls out and tosses the condom into the trash before untying me. I nearly collapse, but his hands hold me steady.

Gently, he lifts me and sets me on the bed. The tenderness of his touch is so contrary to the slamming, driving pace of our fucking that I can't stifle my laugh. His fingers rub my arms and wrists, restoring feeling to my hands, massaging and caressing.

"You were spectacular, Anastasia," he whispers in my ear, gently biting it, sending another aftershock through my system.

With great effort, I reach a hand up and touch his cheek. I watch his stormy gray eyes as I kiss him slowly. "You're not so bad, yourself, sir."

He kisses me again, longer, deeper than before, watching me the whole time. It's intimidating as all hell, but erotic in a way I can't quite describe.

"'Not so bad,' Miss Steele?" His soft touch on my wrists shifts as he pins my hands under my back. "Are you quite sure?" He slides on top of me and presses his entire weight into my body, spreading my legs, and holding me in place. "I think you'll find I'm very bad."


	16. Ch 16 - The Name of the Game

_Nice long chapter. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Ch 16: The Name of the Game**

* * *

I'm finding it harder and harder to catch my breath as his kisses become more ferocious. I can tell he's hard again as he presses into me. My entire body sinks slowly into the softness of the mattress. He kisses me again, hard, at the same time pinching, pulling, and twisting my right nipple, causing me to moan into his mouth.

"It may be time for your punishment, Anastasia," he murmurs, pulling back from my mouth, but taking my left nipple in his other hand and forcing out another deep sigh from me.

"I don't think it should be too terrible," he says, letting his fingernails pull harshly against the soft flesh just below each nipple, the underside of my breasts. "But it should teach you a bit of self control."

In an instant, I'm left cold. Christian is on his feet and I go to reach for him.

"_Control_, Miss Steele," he says harshly, turning to me. I still myself and put my hand behind my back again. "Good."

He grasps my ankles and tugs at them, sliding me down the bed. With quick, practiced movements, he lengthens the restraints at the foot of the bed slightly and ties my ankles to them, spreading my legs further in the process. They're slightly further than shoulder width apart, making my sex pulse slightly at the exposure and my high heels dig into the blanket.

"Is that comfortable?" he asks.

_Ha, that's hilarious. _But I nod anyway. I know he's asking about how tight the cuffs are.

"Not too comfortable I hope," he says with a devilish smile. I smile back and shake my head. "Good," he says. "I want you to stay just like that, Miss Steele."

The temptation to move is overwhelming and I find myself squirming to find a more comfortable position for my hands. Christian frowns at me. "I almost forgot," he says, walking to the foot of the bed. He wraps his hands around my thighs and pulls me even further down on the mattress so my shoes are flat on the bed and my knees are up in the air. My ankles are spread just as wide as before, but my sex feels stretched, aching with emptiness in this new position. I feel the _lack_ of his touch clawing at me and moan softly. "Hold onto your shoes," he says.

I do as I'm told, reaching down to grab the heels of my shoes, making my spine arch slightly. I hear his groan of approval as my hips shift and my breasts push up.

"Very nice, Miss Steele." I feel his eyes on my skin as he takes in the length of my body. "I want you to stay exactly like this." My muscles tremble slightly but I nod. Hopefully this isn't for too long.

He walks over to the phone on the bedside table and dials a couple digits, putting it on speaker. He climbs onto the bed and straddles my torso while the phone rings. His stiff cock is so close to my mouth I could lick it.

"Kiss it," he orders, and I do, craning my neck to reach. "Good," he says, grabbing my hair and sliding himself into my mouth as someone picks up the phone.

"How may we be of service, Mr. Grey?"

He smiles down at me and presses himself deep into my mouth, down my throat, letting me suck him as hard as I can.

"Very good," he says to me. Then to the phone, "I'd like to order some room service, please."

"Of course, Mr. Grey, what can we get for you?"

His pace picks up as he fucks my mouth. I'm taking him deeper and deeper, his hand buried in my hair, helping me. I try desperately not to buck on the bed, I'm so turned on. A small gasp escapes me around his cock as his free hand reaches behind him and scratches gruffly along my breast, surely leaving red marks.

"I would like some ginger tea and a bucket of ice, please."

"Right away, Mr. Grey."

He pulls his cock away and starts stroking it with his hand, letting his other roam further down until it finds that sweet spot between my thighs.

"Anastasia, tell them what you would like," he says teasingly as I sigh inaudibly.

I panic, struggling to find my voice. "Uh, I'm good," I manage, afraid to attempt saying anything too complicated at this point lest it come out as a "_Please just fuck me now!_"

He smiles and slides two fingers inside of me, sitting on my hips, pinning them to the bed, still working his length. "Nonsense, Anastasia, you were _just_ telling me how hungry you were."

His thumb circles my clit as I start to speak, the bastard. The first word comes out as a moan. "Ohhh, I don't know," I say, my voice trembling. "I guess I could use something to fill me up," I smirk at him.

I hope the concierge can't hear the sexually explicit sound of his fingers sliding in and out of me as his pace increases slightly. "You can have whatever you like, Ana," he says. "My treat."

"Ah, ice cream," I moan. I really don't think I can keep this up. I am definitely about to come, but I know I can't cover that up over the phone. "Any flavor, I don't care. Just come quick."

"Quite right, Mrs. Grey," the man on the phone says. I feel Christian stiffen at the name. He pounds into me harder and I can see he's about to come, too. "We'll have that up to you as quickly as possible. Will there be anything else, Mr. Grey?"

"No," he barks then pulls his hand from me to hit the phone, ending the call. I whimper from the sudden loss of his touch, but before I can be reprimanded, he shoves his cock back into my mouth, hooking his fingers through my hair, pulling it roughly. "Do you like this?"

I do my best to nod, but give up and simply try to communicate my agreement with my eyes on his.

"Suck harder, Ana." He releases my hair and twists both my nipples as he comes in my mouth. I swallow it down then let out a guttural moan, his throbbing dick still hard in my mouth.

"Oh, you're so good at this, _Mrs. Grey_," he says with a smirk.

He climbs off me, tweaking my nipples one more time before pulling his jeans on and walking to the doorway. "Stay just like that until I return."

_Until he returns?!_ How long is he going to leave me like this?

I want to shift again, to find purchase for the orgasm I was _so_ close to before Christian cut me short, but there's no way. The openness of my legs mocks me, my juices flowing slowly down, leaving a damp puddle on the bedspread. Everything in me wants to move, but I stay completely still, measuring time by my breaths, trying to slow my racing heartbeat.

Despite myself, I feel myself becoming more and more excited. The more I struggle against moving, the more I want to move. The longer my legs stay open, the more I need friction against my center.

I can feel a hot flush covering all the skin on my body by the time the doorbell rings.

_Shit!_ _Room service!_

The bed on which I am restrained and completely naked (other than my pumps) is in full view of the door to the suite. The bell rings again and I start to panic. What if they just let themselves in?

Before I can formulate a plan for how to get out of the restraints, Christian saunters through the room and smiles approvingly at me. "Very good, Miss Steele." He walks over to me slowly and slaps the underside of my left breast, making the skin turn even pinker and forcing a desperate moan out of me.

There's a knock at the door. "Room service!" a young man calls from the hallway.

"Just a moment," Christian calls lazily. He leans down and bites that same spot, making me moan louder. "I'll be there shortly."

"Of course, Mr. Grey," squeaks the room service guy.

"You must stay very still and very quiet, Miss Steele," he says, moving his face down my torso, licking and biting along the way. I nod as best I can, and swallow down a shriek. He winds up kneeling on the floor with his face between my legs, his hand curling up and stroking the sensitive flesh below my belly button — the same spot Kate tickled Sunday.

I tip my head back so I don't have to look at him. I don't think I can control myself right now if I do.

"Look at me, Anastasia," he grumbles. He must have special mind reading powers. Slowly, I tilt my head and meet his eyes. There's a fire there and a playfulness I haven't seen before. Something tightens inside me and I nearly come right there.

"Oh, Anastasia, you've made a mess," he teases quietly. "Maybe I should get housekeeping to come clean you up."

"No!" I squeak before I can catch myself.

His eyes narrow on me and he stands back up. "I thought I told you to be quiet, Miss Steele." _Oh god_, I shiver to think what my punishment for this might be. "I will have to gag you next time. But for now," he pulls Little Katie from his pocket, setting it to a bone shaking speed, then sets it about an inch from my skin on the bed, right between my legs. I can feel the vibrations through the mattress, but only slightly. Nothing to satisfy my need for touch, only to intensify my need.

"When I return, I will know if you've moved." He leans over, his hands on my knees. "This is important. I have brought a cane with me. I do not want to use it today, but if you can't behave yourself for five minutes, I will have to use it. I was really hoping we could work our way up to that, so please, for both our sakes, stay still. Do _not_ touch Little Katie." He moves it just slightly closer, I can feel the air around my vagina hum, then he leans even closer and lands a tiny kiss right on my clit. My back arches, but I don't shift, I don't moan, I simply watch him walk out of the room and close the double doors between the bedroom and the foyer of the suite, leaving one just slightly ajar.

Every part of my being wants to shift just the tiniest bit. That tiny kiss he planted on me has driven my desire into a frenzy and the sound of the vibe, the feel of it so close is pretty much making me crazy.

I hear him open the front door and speak softly to the room service guy. They shift so Christian can let him into the suite, and suddenly I see them. _Shit!_ If I can see them, all the guy has to do is turn in my direction and he'll see me spread like a puupuu platter. I start to panic again, the adrenaline mixing with the endorphins in my system to make my whole body tremble like a preteen with ADHD.

They move into the next room, a small dining area next to the front door. I focus on my breathing to calm myself. I know that I've somehow wound up closer to the vibrator without even meaning to, and the fear of a caning is enough to _almost_ make me not care if this room service guy sees me. I really don't want the snot beaten out of me.

I hear their voices grow louder again and despite my best efforts, the trembling returns. When they reappear, Christian's imposing form blocks the doorway and stops. I know the guy is on the other side of him, his view of me blocked only by Christian's broad chest. I feel my nerves calm slightly but then the room service guy stops, and they have a _fucking_ conversation.

_He's doing this on purpose!_ is all I can think.

Finally, after what seems like hours, the room service guy starts to leave, but Christian doesn't move fast enough to block his view and for a split second, I see his face before he's out of sight. I feel my entire body tighten, all the blood rushing out of me. I stay completely still though, embarrassment, anger, and fear restraining me just as much as the cuffs on my ankles.

I hear the front door close before Christian strides back in, looking entirely pleased with himself. He walks right up to me and clucks approvingly. "Very good, Miss Steele. I'm so glad you've learned a little obedience."

"What the hell was that about?" I can't stop myself before I'm screaming at him. I don't move from my agonizing position, but I feel all the emotions, every bit of confusion I've felt in the last week boiling over. "He could have seen me! Is that what you want? To humiliate me?"

He stares at me for a moment, stunned no doubt. Then his face changes. But where I expected there to be contrition, there's now anger.

"I would never let that..." He turns on the spot and runs his fingers through his hair. "What did you think that was about?" He turns back at me, pain coloring his face. "Don't you trust me?"

_Crap_. Trust. This was an exercise in trust. Self control, yes. But mainly, trust. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

My voice is tiny and unstable. "I didn't... I didn't think. I..."

He places one hand to the side of my hip on the bed, leaning over me. "When you are in my care, my every thought is of you — your safety, your well-being..." His other hand presses the vibrator slowly and easily into me, his eyes holding my own. "Your pleasure." He stares at me, the vibrator the only thing touching me, pumping in and out, pushing tiny moans out of my open mouth. "I want every moment with me to be about your pleasure." Continuing the in-and-out motion of the vibrator, he adds a swirl to the movement, circling around the edges of my vagina, opening me up, stretching my lips open. The sensations seem intensified by my inability to move. No, not inability. Obedience. I can move if I want, but Christian has asked me not to. He has asked me not to because he wants me to have pleasure.

"Show me your pleasure, Ana." At his command, I come intensely and quietly, not moving at all as my vision goes black I pass out completely.


	17. Ch 17 - Be Careful What You Wish For

_I do so hope you guys are enjoying the many-chapter rush I've hit._

_Truth of the matter, I went to a party this weekend that left me greatly inspired._

_It was pretty seedy, but it was also a ton of fun. HO-LY SHIT. _

_I plan on writing a one-shot story about my night, so keep an eye out for that._

* * *

**Ch 17: Be Careful What You Wish For**

* * *

I come to a few moments later, Christian cradling me in his arms. I'm unbound and under the covers.

"What happened?"

He smiles kindly down at me.

"You passed out."

_Passed out?_ My mind flies through the implications. I could have a heart problem or a blood pressure issue or...

Christian laughs gently at me. "Don't worry. It's nothing to be concerned about. The French have a name for this, it's called _La Petite Morte_. It usually happens because you're not getting quite enough blood to your brain." He smiles widely. "It's all concentrated... elsewhere."

I blush crimson and snuggle into him slightly before catching myself. Christian stiffens beneath me, my face in his chest hair, before carefully extracting himself from me.

"Come eat some food, then you should get some sleep, Miss Steele. You have a big day tomorrow," he says, walking out of the room and coming back with a super fluffy white bathrobe for me. I climb out of bed and don the robe. It's luxurious in the way 1000-thread count sheets and silk underwear are. Having experienced these things since meeting Christian Grey, I can attest that they are the indulgences in life that seem unimportant until you finally try them. Then it's hard to imagine how you did without them for so long.

We sit down to our ice cream and tea, probably the oddest room service order I've ever heard of, and I shoot him a quizzical look while stuffing a spoonful of salted caramel ice cream in my mouth. "What's tomorrow?"

"Don't tell me you've forgotten about your own graduation."

_Fuck_. I'm graduating from college tomorrow. I stop completely, the spoon halfway to my open mouth, freaking out.

"What time is it?" I ask quietly, still not moving.

"It's a little after five a.m." he says nonchalantly.

_Holy shit!_ My father is supposed to _pick me up_ at my apartment in three and a half hours!

I drop my spoon completely, letting it clatter into the bowl, fling my chair back and stand, spinning in place, trying to figure out what my next step should be.

"Whoa, slow down, Anastasia."

I stop and look at Christian, a deer in the headlights. I can't think. I can't plan. All I can do is panic.

"Let me help you. What is your schedule like? Do you have family coming into town?"

I nod. "Dad's picking me up at 8:30. We're having breakfast then I have to be at the school at 10. Graduation then lunch." I take a shaky breath. "But I have to get home, I have to shower. I have to... find some underwear..."

"Sit down, Anastasia."

His demeanor has changed again and I know I have to do as he says. I want to do as he says. Surprisingly, I find myself calming completely when I grab my chair again and sit down. _Christian is going to tell me what to do. He'll take care of everything._

"First thing's first. Text your father. Ask him to meet you at breakfast and you'll find your own way there." He hands me my phone — _why did he have my phone?_ — and I send the text immediately.

"Why don't you text Kate to bring your cap and gown to the school, but I have some clothes here for you."

* * *

By the time we finish up our late night snack, it's almost 6 a.m.

"Is it alright if I take a shower now?"

I'm sitting there, my napkin on my lap still, looking innocent. I don't want to delay much longer. I have to be presentable today. I'm meeting my dad, for god's sake! I can't stink of Christian Grey and all the sex we've had! I silently beg him to let me spend some time remaking myself into the sweet co-ed Ray knows me as.

He gives me a sly smile. _Uh-oh._ He stands and offers his hand. I take it, standing up, leaving my napkin on the table.

"Of course, Miss Steele. Right this way."

Something tells me it won't be this easy. That smile oozes mischief and mischief spells delays. It's a good thing I still have a couple hours before I have to go.

He leads me into the master bath, holding my fingers gently the whole way. He leans into the glass shower enclosure and turns on the water, testing the temperature. After he's satisfied, he turns back to me and slowly unties the belt on my robe.

I can't look away from his eyes as he parts the robe slightly, letting it hang open over my breasts. He slides his hands down the terrycloth collar until he reaches my pert nipples, letting his finger run smoothly over my skin.

"Miss Steele, you are not a naturally-inclined sub," he says, his fingers roaming along my torso.

I catch my breath. "I'm sorry, sir! What did I..." I stop. Of course, I'm looking right at him. I divert my gaze at my toes but get distracted by the bulge in his jeans, unable to pull my eyes away.

His finger lifts my chin back up so I'm meeting his eyes again. "No, it's okay. I find it..." He seems to be struggling to find the words. "I find it exciting." With both hands he pushes my robe slightly so it falls from my shoulders, pooling at my feet. "Don't look away," he says softly, his hands smoothing over my skin once more.

I try not to shift on the spot, so thoroughly enjoying this connection, this intimacy that we haven't really been sharing since I signed the contract all of eight hours ago. But when his eyes move down my body, lingering on my breasts, following his hands down between my legs, I can't hold back the sigh, my head tips back as my back arches and my eyes close.

He grunts and picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist and he carries me into the shower. His jeans have somehow disappeared entirely. My heart beat races and the space between my thighs gets even wetter than the rest of my body under the stream of the shower.

"If you're going to look away when I tell you not to..." Before I really know what's happening, Christian sets me down on my feet and ties the belt from my bathrobe over my eyes, blindfolding me. I panic momentarily, but then I remember what Christian said about trust and fear transforms into excitement, the adrenaline pounding in my ears.

I feel the cold marble against my back as he presses against my front, the water streaming over us both. He takes my wrists in his hands and pulls them above my head. All I can hear is the water as he ties my hands to the metal pipe of the shower head, stretching my already sore arms and shoulders just barely in the process.

With my vision and my hearing practically eliminated, my sense of touch is enhanced. The slow trickle of warm water over the skin of my neck, my shoulders, my breasts, down my stomach, my back, my legs... It's all driving me wild with anticipation. I need Christian's touch.

"Tell me what you want, Miss Steele," he says over the rush of water. He sounds far away.

"I want you, sir."

He laughs a little — a sound that makes me shiver despite the heat of the water. "You're going to have to be a little more specific than that, Miss Steele."

I can feel the blood rush to my face. _I want your cock inside of me now!_ is what I want to say, but I just can't make myself form the words. "I want you to... To touch me, sir." Before I've even finished the sentence, I can feel his teeth on the underside of my upper arm, scraping against my skin, surprising me at the intensity of the sensation. He bites down on my tricep and my knees buckle slightly, leaving me hanging from my wrists.

"Now Miss Steele," he whispers, letting his tongue circle the outer edge of my ear. "Is that what you meant? Are you satisfied?" He nibbles gently on my earlobe, forcing a strangled sigh out of my throat. "Did you come yet?"

"No, sir."

"Well, then, I guess you need to give me more instruction. Tell me what you like." _But I don't _know_ what I like! That's the whole point!_

"I like it when you kiss my neck," I say shyly. I don't know that I can handle this — the responsibility of leading — but I am definitely enjoying the benefits. He takes his time, working his way from my ear to my collar bone, kissing, nibbling, and sucking as he goes, careful not to touch me anywhere else.

"I like it when you touch my..." I can't do this.

"Your what, Anastasia?" he says, speaking into my collarbone.

"My breasts," I gasp.

Softly, his hands caress the very top of my breasts, his fingers just grazing the skin.

"Lower," I say before my modesty can stop me. He does as I command, letting his fingers linger on my nipples before skimming that sensitive skin below. I arch my back, pressing my breasts into his hands. "Harder."

"Harder?" I can tell he's smirking, as he kisses the spot just between my neck and my shoulder.

"Rougher," I clarify. He squeezes each breast, scraping his fingernails along the sides, pinching my nipples, his touch feverish. A deep moan echoes in the bathroom as I have another mini-orgasm.

"I think you're enjoying this, Miss Steele. Telling me what to do," he says before biting into my neck hard.

"Yes, sir."

"Do you have any other likes?"

"I..." I hesitate. I can't say what it is I'm thinking. I just can't.

"Do you like it when I pull your hair?"

I nod.

"Say it."

"Pull my hair, Mr. Grey." Almost immediately, I feel a rough tug on my wet locks, pulling my head back hard, arching my back further.

"Do you like it when I kiss you, Miss Steele."

"Oh, kiss me!" I nearly scream when his mouth covers mine, his tongue pushing in, pressing against mine. It's like he's fucking my mouth with his tongue.

Still pulling my hair and fondling my breast, he pulls back from our kiss.

"Tell me what you want, Ana."

"I want you to spank me, sir."

_Shit! _Did I really just say that out loud? Sure, I've been thinking it ever since our first time together, but I hadn't even considered asking him to do it. I'd been quite a bit disappointed by the measly five slaps I've gotten since.

A long moment passes before he says anything, his grip on my hair and my breast slacking in the meantime.

"You want me to spank you?"

"Yes, sir." It's barely audible over the crash of water. "And to fuck me."

He growls quietly, his hands leaving my skin, all contact cut off. I whine slightly and wiggle in discomfort.

"Are you sure?"

"Please, Mr. Grey," I say. "Do it hard."

Another long moment passes and then I'm being spun around, my wrists crossing above my head, my arms and back stretched further as he pulls my hips towards him, putting me directly under the jet of water again. I hang my head so I'm able to breathe.

"Be careful what you wish for, Miss Steele," he snarls. I'm terrified but I do not regret my request. Yet.

He slaps me, hard, much harder than before, on the right side of my ass. The water gives it a horrifying cracking sound. The force of the slap pushes me forward, my elbows hitting the marble. With all my will power, I manage to find my voice. "One."

"Is that hard enough for you, Miss Steele?" He sounds angry, his voice strained. Before I can respond, he slaps me again, this time on the left. It's even harder than before, my elbows making contact with the marble again, leaving them feeling bruised.

"Two," I cry. This is so good, but I am starting to feel fear creeping in. If I can keep it at bay, I can ride this out to what is sure to be a mind-blowing orgasm.

"If I don't trust you," he pants, "how can you trust me?" He hits me again twice, once on each leg. I can tell he's starting to really put his back into it. The stinging is intense and the pain lingers much longer than before, but I manage to keep count.

I shriek as he changes the temperature of the water. Where it had been a warm, soothing temperature, reminding me of the heat of his body against mine, it's now as cold as ice water. The shock of it hurts, my nipples tightening to painful points. He hits me again and again: on the ass; on my thighs; on my hips; and on my sex. Those are the worst ones of all. They leave me feeling raw, yearning for more but fearing it, too.

"I need to trust you," he growls, landing the fifteenth blow, this one hitting me squarely on the apple of my right ass cheek. "And you need to trust me." This, the sixteenth slap, hits me in the center of my left side. It's the hardest so far and forces my knee to give. I slip slightly on my right foot and the cuffs holding my wrists pull painfully at my already strained shoulders.

Instead of counting this time, I yell, "Yellow!" at the top of my lungs.

He stops immediately, pulling at my hips to get me upright again, then spinning me around to face him. He pushes my hips with his hands until I'm standing with my back flat against the marble wall, my hands above my head still, but the pressure on them relieved. The water pounds down, loud in my ears and cold on my skin as it bounces off Christian's chest. I don't even hear the rip of foil.

His mouth is on mine and I moan into him, the full lengths of our bodies touching finally, giving my desire purchase. He lifts me up by my still stinging thighs and plunges into me hard.

_Finally_, is all I can think as he slams into me over and over, his tongue still in my mouth. He presses my thighs higher until my pelvis is pinned against the marble, unable to move even slightly. He leans back from me, ending our kiss.

"Do you like that, Miss Steele?" he breathes.

_"_Yes, sir."

"Tell me."

"Fuck me, Mr. Grey." He does, but gentler. "Fuck me harder, Mr. Grey." He does, but slower. "Fuck me hard, fuck me fast!"

I can practically _hear_ him smile. "Careful what you wish for, Miss Steele."


	18. Ch 18 - Dressing the Part

_Not gonna lie, I struggled a bit with this chapter. There were a lot of ideas I had that I started then thought better of and eventually changed. I'm not saying it's a masterpiece, but I like where it's going. What do you think is going to happen next? Obviously, she'll graduate... but other than that. My next big thing that we have to look forward to will be the inevitable introduction of Elena Lincoln. Oooooh! So exciting. But I'm getting ahead of myself. _

_That will _come_ later._

* * *

**Ch 18: Dressing the Part**

* * *

After our "smack-n-smack" session, Christian shows me to a walk-in closet, _my_ walk-in closet.

"Obviously, there's more, at Escala," he say, opening the doors. _Holy crap, more?!_ The closet is filled with a number of full-length gowns, as well as an array of cotton, linen, wool, and silk blouses, skirts, pants, and dresses. There's drawers upon drawers of bras, panties, garter belts, and thigh-highs. Three whole drawers are filled with jewelry. There are at least fifteen pairs of shoes — all heels except one pair of athletic sneakers which sit displayed next to a sports bra, white tube socks, and a pair of the tiniest gym shorts I've ever seen.

"Obviously," is all I can eek out.

As I'm ogling the incredibly adult-looking assortment of clothes and accessories (_Is that a Birkin?_), Christian takes my hand. "Will you wear what I picked out for you today? You don't have to." He sounds so unsure, so unlike himself in this moment. He's asking _permission_ for something. My guess is he's not used to doing that. I nod, grateful to not have to make any decisions right now. Grateful, too, that I'll have some underwear on when I meet Ray in an hour and a half.

He squeezes my hand gently before pulling out a red silk sleeveless blouse and a black pencil skirt, hanging them on the hook by the door to the closet. He then places a pair of black suede pumps beneath them, pulls out a skimpy lace bra and panty set, setting them on top of the dresser along with rhinestone stud earrings that I suspect may actually be diamonds. _Huge_ diamonds.

"I'll leave you to change," he whispers against my neck, planting a small kiss just behind my ear. It makes me shiver. Before I can think better of it, I grab his hand.

"No, please stay, sir."

The look on his face is almost laughable. He's confused and shocked and more than a little turned on. I can see that fire behind his eyes. Maybe he's a little mad, too. His palm twitches in mine.

"I want you to watch." It's all about honesty, right? The truth of the matter is that I _do_ want him to watch me. I want to leave for breakfast with the knowledge that Christian is _remembering_ what I look like, not _imagining_ it.

That now-familiar mischievous smile appears and I falter. _Crap, what did I just volunteer for_.

"In that case," he says, snatching the panties from on top of the dresser before rummaging around the drawers and pulling out a new pair. "Why don't you wear these?"

I'm sure the look on my face is less than attractive. "Uh, okay, I mean... I don't know what was wrong with the last pair," I say incredulously, reaching for the drawer.

He grabs my hand inches from the handle. "Do you wish to please me?"

I shift uncomfortably under his stare. "Yes, sir."

"Then you'll wear these."

"Yes, sir."

"You'll put them on last," he says, walking to the door and leaning against the frame to watch me, panties still clutched in his hand.

First things first. I have to clear my head a little. I had a plan. I had thoughts. But now that the moment of truth has arrived, I'm not nearly as brazenly confident as I was when I asked him to watch me get dressed. I look around the closet at all the clothes and feel the panic starting to boil up. I don't know what I'm doing.

"Why don't you start with the shoes?"

I look up at him and see a quiet patience. It's amazing how I can let myself just follow his instructions and feel completely at ease. I never would have expected it. Kate would judge me horrendously for it, I know. She'd say I wasn't being my own woman and that I was setting Women's Lib back a half-century.

Well, this makes me feel sexy.

I saunter over to the Leboutin pumps and slip one foot in, then shifting my weight and holding onto the dresser for balance, I slip my other foot into its shoe. I can't quite get my heel in — they're brand new shoes after all — and kick my heel up to grab the back of the shoe with my finger.

I hear a grunt from behind me and look over my shoulder. Christian's cock is standing at full attention: I can see it clearly through the towel still wrapped around his waist. I nearly lose my footing at the sight and decide to focus on what I'm doing. I crouch down to struggle with the shoe from a different angle, lengthening my legs and standing up slowly when I'm done.

If he wants a show, he'll get a show.

I turn to face him, posing for a moment. "How do I look?"

He doesn't skip a beat. "Fuckable."

I blush crimson. "What shall I put on next, sir?"

"How about the bra," he suggests.

I turn back to the dresser, picking up the soft cup lacy bra and slipping my arm through the straps. I lift my hair out of the way and hook it behind my back, turning towards him to shift my breasts up in the bra.

"How's that?"

"I'm going to enjoy doing this in reverse later."

We continue our little game. Next comes the skirt then the blouse and the earrings. Quite honestly, I'm tempted to go out just like this, but Christian seems to really be looking forward to these panties. God knows what's so special about them.

Finally, I walk over to him, holding out my hand to take them. He holds them up, stretching the material between the index fingers of both hands, displaying them for me.

It's basically a lace belt with a strand of pearls instead of underwear.

"Is that a necklace?"

I'm completely bewildered. It has to be the ugliest necklace I've ever seen.

He shakes his head no. "Here, let me help."

He bends and I put my hands on his shoulders, steadying myself as I lift one foot, then the other, stepping into the sad excuse for panties. He lifts them slowly up my legs, letting his fingers run over my calves, my knees, then lifting my skirt to my thighs and my hips. And then the panties are on.

As predicted, the lace sits high on my hips, much higher than I've ever worn panties before, but the pearls run over my mound, against my clit, up my slit, over my ass, and come up my spine before meeting the lace again. I shift slightly, trying to get used to the hard sensation of the beads, and realize _why_ he wants me to wear these.

"Holy shit," I say under my breath, still holding Christian's shoulders for support. I look up at the satisfied, smoldering look on his face and nearly melt. "I don't know that I can do this, Christian."

He places one hand on the side of my face and kisses me gently, his lips barely touching mine. "You can do this, Miss Steele." Then he slaps me once very hard on the ass, shifting the pearls and nearly making me fall to the floor. I know my eyes shifted to the back of my skull from the nasty pleasure of it. "And that's for calling me 'Christian'."

* * *

Suddenly, I find myself in hell. I don't really know how I got here, but I know that it's somehow Christian Grey's fault. The sexy bastard.

I walk as gingerly as I can, trying to keep the pearls from rubbing me the wrong way, as it were, into the diner to meet Ray.

_I cannot have an orgasm in front of my dad._

Christian went in ten minutes before me and is sitting at his own table in the corner, eyeing me intently. That look alone has me soaked, the pearls are definitely not helping.

And the car trip over was the worst kind of torture. Besides the constant hum of the engine under me, Christian spent most of the ride sliding his hand up my skirt while he drove. If I tried to swat him away, he would pinch my nipple, looking over at me hungrily. In the end, my fear of crashing won out over my fear of orgasm and I'd let him pet me nearly to the breaking point over and over again.

I'm starting to rethink that policy. Crashing would have been better than this.

Ray jumps up and pulls me into a long embrace. Thankfully I'm able to stay still and only the dripping sensation between my thighs reminds me of how close I am to embarrassing us both. Ray never hugs me, so I'm near tears by the time we sit down.

Shit. I have to sit down, don't I?

What I've discovered about these "underwear" is that sitting down is an intimate affair, as it just increases the pressure tenfold. And did you think sitting was a stationary activity? Oh, well, it probably is... _If you're not about to come_. I can't seem to sit still in these things. So then it becomes a non-stop party.

Ray holds out my hard-backed (and hard-seated) chair, which mocks me as I slowly lower myself. As Ray pushes it in and I scoot as naturally as I can, my sigh is thankfully masked by a loud chuckle across the diner. Christian is beside himself, laughing into his coffee cup.

Well, I'm glad he's amused.

* * *

I magically manage to control myself through breakfast, nodding when appropriate and vaguely following the conversation. I dodge a couple questions about my love life, and then, thankfully, we head out, walking over to the auditorium. When we reach the gates, I give Ray a quick peck on the cheek and tell him I'll see him later.

Thank god. I wasn't really sure how much longer I could last — and if I'm going to come in public, it better not be while I'm standing right next to my dad.

I see Kate down the hallway, holding two caps and gowns, but before I can get her attention, Christian grabs my hand and pulls me down a side hall. I'm practically running behind him — a bad idea, considering — until we come to a random classroom, flinging the door open, pulling me inside. He slams the door shut and pushes me up against it, his hips pressing against me. He pins my wrists above my head with one hand and languidly runs the other down my neck, across my collarbone, and over my breast, pinching my nipple and making me scream slightly. I'm panting from the running, from the closeness of him, from the _fucking_ pearls. I can't take this much longer.

His fingers run down my stomach, lifting the hem of my blouse. They run along the lace of the panties, pulling slightly, moving the pearls along my... Well, my everything. My back arches and my hips press hard into his.

"Did you _enjoy_ breakfast with your father, Anastasia?" he asks, laughing.

"Fuck you, Mr. Grey."

His fingers stop.

"Fuck me?"

My eyes fly open. Oh, I should _not_ have said that.

"I was _going _to fuck _you_, Miss Steele," he growls angrily, jerking on the panties. My vision blurs. "But now..."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sir," I sob.

"Do you want me to let you come, Miss Steele?" he asks, his expression and his movements softening, rubbing me just so.

"Oh, yes, yes. Please, sir."

His hand moves back to my breasts, tweaking the nipples again. "I will let you know when you may come, Anastasia." He leans in closer, his hand cupping my ass, pulling me open, letting the pearls settle even closer to me. "Don't come before that. I will know." He presses himself against me again, pinning me to the door. His cock against my thigh, his lips against my ear, he whispers, "And don't let anyone else know you're coming. I want all your pleasure to be mine."


End file.
